FRANCE 

from 
BEHIND  THE  VEII 


;COUNT  PAUL  VASSILI 


"^ 


From  the  painting  by  Ccdtanel. 


NAPOLEON    III. 


France  from   Behind 

the  Veil:    Fifty  Years 
of  Social  and  Political  Life 


BY 

COUNT  PAUL  VASSILI 


Illustrated 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 

New  York  and  London 

1915 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

WHILE  this  volume  has  been  passing  through  the  press 
certain  of  the  personages  still  living  at  the  time  Count  Vassili 
was  at  work  on  the  manuscript  of  "  France  from  Behind  the 
Veil "  have  passed  away. 

Also,  incidents  have  occurred  which  are  a  reflex  of  matters 
mentioned  in  these  pages. 

In  such  instances  the  publishers  have  thought  well  to 
bring  the  manuscript  right  up  to  date,  leaving  the  reader 
to  understand  that  events  happening  in  1914,  and  therefore 
subsequent  to  the  Count's  death,  have  been  so  treated. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

1.  LAST  DAYS  OF  THE  EMPIRE  :    NAPOLEON  AND  EUGENIE  i 

2.  THE  SURROUNDINGS  AND  FRIENDS  OF  THE  SOVEREIGNS  13 

3.  FONTAINEBLEAU  AND  COMPIEGNE.        ....  25 

4.  POLITICAL  MEN  OF  THE  TIME 38 

5.  BEFORE  THE  STORM 52 

6.  THE  DISASTER 63 

7.  LETTERS  FROM  PARIS  DURING  THE  SIEGE      ...  73 

8.  THE  COMMUNE    .....      ''*'. "v     .         .  87 

9.  M.  THIERS 99 

10.  THE  COMTE  DE  CHAMBORD  AND  HIS  PARTY  .         .         .  112 

11.  THE  ORLEANS  PRINCES 123 

12.  THE  Due  D'AUMALE  AND  CHANTILLY  ....  133 

13.  THE  PRESIDENCY  OF  MARSHAL  MACMAHON  .         .         .  144 

14.  Two  GREAT  MINISTERS 156 

15.  PARIS   SOCIETY  UNDER  THE  PRESIDENCY  OF   MARSHAL 

MACMAHON 166 

16.  A  FEW  PROMINENT  PARISIAN  HOSTESSES      .        .        .  177 

17.  MADAME  JULIETTE  ADAM 190 

18.  A  FEW  LITERARY  MEN 205 

19.  THE  i6TH  OF  MAY  AND  THE  FALL  OF  MARSHAL  MACMAHON  218 

20.  LEON  GAMBETTA 231 


via  Contents 

CHAPTER  PACK 

21.  THE  ADVENTURE  OF  GENERAL  BOULANGER  .         .        .  244 

22.  THE  PANAMA  SCANDAL 257 

23.  Two  PRESIDENTS 271 

24.  IMPERIAL  AND  PRESIDENTIAL  VISITS      ....  285 

25.  THE  FRENCH  PRESS      .......  297 

26.  THE  PRESIDENCY  OF  M:  LOUBET 308 

27.  THE  DREYFUS  AFFAIR 318 

28.  PARISIAN  SALONS  UNDER  THE  THIRD  REPUBLIC    .         .  332 

29.  THE  PRESENT  TONE  OF  PARIS  SOCIETY         .         .         .  343 

30.  M.  FALLIERES  AS  PRESIDENT 358 

31.  M.  BRIAND  AND  THE  SOCIALISTS 366 

32.  A  FEW  LITERARY  MEN  OF  THE  PRESENT  DAY      .         .  372 

33.  A  FEW  FOREIGN  DIPLOMATS 382 

L'ENVOI 389 

INDEX 391 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NAPOLEON  III.. 

EMPRESS  EUGENIE    . 

M.  ADOLPHE  TRIERS 

MARSHAL  MACMAHON 

COMTE  DE  CHAMBORD 

LEON  GAMBETTA 

MADAME  JULIETTE  ADAM  . 

ALEX.  DUMAS  (PERE) 

ANATOLE  FRANCE 

OCTAVE  MIRBEAU 

CAPTAIN  DREYFUS     . 

GENERAL  BOULANGER 

EMILE  ZOLA      .... 

M.  DE  LESSEPS 

M.  M.  F.  SADI-CARNOT 

M.  J.  P.  P.  CASIMIR  P£RIER     . 

M.  F.  F.  FAURE 

M.  E.  LOUBET  .... 

M.  A.  FALLIERES 

M.  R.  POINCARE" 

M.  A.  BRIAND  .         .         .         ,  ' 

M.  G.  CLEMENCEAU  . 

THE  CHAMBER  OF  DEPUTIES  SITTING. 


Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

.        »  10 

.  .118 

;        .  118 

*        .  118 

.       . ,  118 

.            .  212 

.            .  212 

,            .  212 

.  212 

I  '         .  246 

.  246 

'    .  246 

.  246 

.  310 

.  310 

.  310 

•  310 
»  360 

•  360 
.  360 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 


CHAPTER   I 
LAST  DAYS  OF  THE  EMPIRE  :    NAPOLEON  AND  EUGENIE 

TOWARDS  the  end  of  the  year  1868  I  arrived  in  Paris.  I  had 
often  before  been  in  the  great  city,  but  had  never  occupied 
any  official  position  there.  Now,  however,  having  been 
appointed  secretary  to  our  (Russian)  embassy,  I  conse- 
quently enjoyed  special  privileges,  not  the  least  being  oppor- 
tunity to  watch  quite  closely  the  actors  in  what  was  to  prove 
one  of  the  greatest  dramas  of  modern  history.  I  had  many 
acquaintances  in  Paris,  but  these  belonged  principally  to  the 
circle  known  still  by  the  name  of  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  for 
I  had  never  frequented  the  Imperialistic  world.  Conse- 
quently I  found  myself  thrown  in  quite  a  different  milieu, 
and  had  to  forgo  a  great  many  of  my  former  friends,  who 
would  not  have  cared  to  receive  in  their  houses  one  who 
now  belonged  to  the  intimate  coterie  of  the  Tuileries.  In 
a  certain  sense  I  felt  sorry  ;  but  on  the  other  hand  I  dis- 
covered that  the  society  in  which  I  now  found  myself  was 
far  more  pleasant,  and  certainly  far  more  amusing,  than  my 
former  circle.  To  a  young  man  such  as  I  was  at  that  time, 
this  last  consideration,  of  course,  was  most  attractive. 

Paris,  during  that  autumn  of  the  year  1868,  was  extremely 
congenial ;    indeed,  it  has  never  been  so  brilliant  since  the 

B  I 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Napoleonic  Eagle  disappeared.  The  Sovereigns  liked  to 
surround  themselves  with  nice  people,  and  sought  popu- 
larity among  the  different  classes  of  society ;  they  gave 
splendid  receptions,  and  did  their  best  to  create  around  them 
an  atmosphere  of  luxury  and  enjoyment.  They  frequented 
the  many  theatres  for  which  Paris  was  famed,  were  present 
at  the  races,  and  in  general  showed  themselves  wherever 
they  found  opportunity  to  appear  in  public.  During  the 
summer  and  autumn  months  the  Imperial  hospitality  was 
exercised  with  profusion  and  generosity,  either  at  Compiegne 
or  at  Fontainebleau,  and  it  was  only  at  St.  Cloud  or  at 
Biarritz  that  the  Emperor  and  his  lovely  Consort  led  a  rela- 
tively retired  life,  while  they  enjoyed  a  short  and  well-earned 
holiday. 

As  is  usual  in  such%cases,  the  Imperialistic  society  fol- 
lowed the  lead  given  to  it  from  above,  and  pleasure  followed 
upon  pleasure,  festivity  crowded  upon  festivity  during  these 
feverish  months  which  preceded  the  Franco-Prussian  War. 
In  1868  the  clouds  that  had  obscured  the  Imperial  sky  at 
the  time  of  the  ill-fated  Mexican  Expedition  had  passed 
away,  and  the  splendours  which  attended  the  inauguration 
of  the  Suez  Canal  were  already  looming  on  the  horizon. 

The  political  situation  as  yet  seemed  untroubled;  indeed, 
though  the  Emperor  sometimes  appeared  sad  and  anxious, 
no  one  among  all  those  who  surrounded  him  shared  the 
apprehensions  which  his  keen  political  glance  had  already 
foreseen  as  inevitable.  The  Empress,  too,  appeared  as  if 
she  wanted  to  make  the  most  of  her  already  disappearing 
youth,  and  to  gather  her  roses  whilst  she  still  could  do  so, 
with  all  the  buoyancy  of  her  departed  girlish  days. 

The  leading  spirit  of  all  the  entertainments  given  at  the 
Tuileries,  the  Princess  Pauline  Metternich,  was  always  alert 
for  some  new  form  of  amusement  wherewith  to  enliven  the 


Napoleon   and   Eugenie 

house  parties  of  Compiegne,  or  the  solemnity  of  the  even- 
ing parties  given  in  the  old  home  of  the  Kings  of  France — 
that  home  from  which  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
had  gone  to  the  scaffold,  and  to  which  their  memory  clung 
in  spite  of  all  those  who  had  inhabited  it  since  the  day  they 
started  upon  their  tragic  journey  to  Varennes. 

The  fair  Eugenie  had  a  special  reverence  for  the  memory 
of  the  beautiful  Austrian  Archduchess  whose  destiny  it  had 
been  to  die  by  the  hand  of  the  executioner  within  a  few 
steps  of  the  grand  old  palace  that  had  been  hers.  With  all 
the  impressionability  of  her  Spanish  nature  she  used  to  say 
that  she  was  sure  a  like  fate  awaited  her,  and  so  prepared 
herself  to  die  as  had  died  the  unfortunate  Princess  whose 
place  she  had  taken.  Eugenie  often  spoke  of  what  she  would 
do  when  that  day  should  come,  and  sometimes  amused  her 
friends  with  her  conviction  that  she,  too,  was  destined  to 
endure  tragic  misfortunes  and  calamities.  Her  presentiments 
were  fulfilled  ;  but,  alas !  she  did  not  bear  them  with  true 
dignity. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking — October,  1868 — 
Napoleon  III.  had  just  completed  his  sixtieth  year.  In  spite 
of  the  agonies  occasioned  by  the  painful  disease  from  which 
he  was  suffering,  he  retained  his  good  looks,  and  notwith- 
standing his  small  height  and  the  largeness  of  his  head,  which, 
compared  with  the  size  of  his  body,  would  have  been  ridiculous 
in  any  other  person,  he  presented  a  most  dignified  appear- 
ance, and  bore  himself  like  a  Sovereign  born  to  the  purple 
would  have  done.  When  he  chose,  the  expression  of  his  face 
was  charming,  and  the  eyes,  which  he  always  kept  half  closed, 
had  a  dreamy,  far-away,  mysterious  look  that  gave  them  a 
peculiar  charm.  He  spoke  slowly,  as  if  carefully  weighing 
every  word  he  uttered ;  but  what  surprised  one  when 
talking  with  him  for  the  first  time  was  a  German  accent  in 

3 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

speaking  French — a  habit  retained  from  his  early  days 
spent  in  Switzerland — from  which  he  could  not  rid  himself, 
in  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  as  well  as  those  of  M.  Mocquard, 
his  faithful  secretary  and  friend,  who,  so  long  as  he  lived, 
gave  him  lessons  in  elocution.  I  believe  that  the  slowness 
with  which  Napoleon  III.  expressed  himself  must  be  attri- 
buted to  that  circumstance  more  than  anything  else.  But 
it  is  a  fact  that  sometimes  it  had  the  effect  of  irritating 
those  with  whom  he  was  engaged  in  conversation ;  they 
never  knew  what  he  was  going  to  say  next,  and  ofttimes 
gathered  the  impression  that  some  ulterior  motive  actuated 
his  speech. 

With  ladies  the  Emperor  was  always  charming,  and  his 
manner  with  them  had  a  tinge  of  chivalry  that  savoured  of 
olden  times,  and  generally  succeeded  in  winning  for  him  all 
that  he  wanted.  His  love  intrigues  were  numerous,  and  his 
wife  was  not  always  wrong  when  she  complained,  though  not 
improbably  she  would  have  done  better  to  notice  and  talk  of 
them  less  than  she  did.  In  general  the  Empress  was  much 
too  fond  of  communicating  her  feelings  and  impressions  to 
those  whom  she  considered  her  friends  without  the  slightest 
reason  for  thinking  them  to  be  such.  Her  many  intimacies 
with  ladies  who  bore  her  no  real  sympathy,  such  as  Princess 
Metternich,  for  instance,  did  her  much  harm  and  caused 
her  many  annoyances  which  she  could  well  have  avoided 
had  she  shown  herself  more  careful  in  what  she  did  or  said. 
She  never  realised  that  community  in  amusement  does  not 
constitute  community  of  feelings,  and  that  whilst  one  may 
like  the  society  of  some  people  because  one  enjoys  their  good 
dinners,  or  spends  one's  time  pleasantly  in  their  company, 
it  does  not  mean  that  one  really  cares  for  them,  or  trusts 
them. 

Napoleon  III.  had  been  a  very  clever  politician.  I  use 

4 


Napoleon  and  Eugenie 

the  words  "  had  been  "  intentionally,  because,  unhappily,  it  is 
certain  that  toward  the  end  of  his  reign  he  had  lost  some 
of  his  former  sharpness.  Neither  did  he  see  so  plainly  the 
dangers  of  his  situation,  nor  realise  that  he  could  not 
act  as  freely  as  he  had  done  at  the  time  of  the  coup 
d'etat  of  December,  1852,  and  during  the  Crimean  and 
Italian  campaigns. 

He  felt  himself  weakened,  in  part  through  the  mistakes 
of  his  early  youth,  as  well  as  by  his  associations,  which  were 
beginning  to  tell  upon  him,  and  of  which  he  had  a  nervous 
dread  of  being  reminded.  As  an  example  of  this  the  follow- 
ing anecdote  is  typical.  A  Russian  lady,  the  Countess  K , 

who  used  to  frequent  the  Tuileries,  met  one  day  an  Italian 
statesman,  whose  name  I  won't  mention  as  he  is  still  living. 
This  gentleman  suddenly  asked  whether  it  would  not  amuse 
her  to  frighten  the  Emperor.  She  was  young  and  giddy,  and 
accepted  with  enthusiasm.  He  then  told  her  that  at  the 
next  fancy  ball  that  was  going  to  take  place  at  the  Naval 
Office,  the  Sovereigns  were  to  attend  as  the  guests  of  the 
Marquis  and  the  Marquise  de  Chasseloup  Laubat.  The  lady 
was  to  approach  Napoleon  and  to  whisper  in  his  ear  the 
name  of  an  Italian  then  in  Paris,  and  to  remind  Napoleon 
of  an  interview  he  had  had  with  him  in  a  small  inn  near 
Perugia.  No  explanations  were  given  to  the  lady,  and  she 
never  asked  for  any,  but  when  the  ball  took  place  she  managed 
to  approach  the  Emperor,  who  was  present  in  a  domino, 
and  to  murmur  in  his  ear  the  phrase  given  her,  without,  it 
must  be  owned,  attaching  any  special  importance  to  it. 
Napoleon's  face  became  white,  and,  seizing  her  hand,  he 
asked  her,  in  an  agitated  voice,  to  tell  him  from  whom  she 
had  obtained  this  information.  The  Countess  was  terrified, 
and  replied  that  a  domino  had  whispered  it  to  her  during 
the  ball.  The  Emperor  plied  her  with  questions,  but  to 

5 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

no  purpose,  as  his  extreme  emotion  had  put  her  on  her  guard. 
Two  days  later,  to  her  surprise,  she  was  invited  to  dine  at 
the  Tuileries.  When  the  meal  was  over,  the  Empress,  who 
had  been  unusually  gracious,  called  her  to  her  side,  and  taking 
care  no  one  should  hear  them,  asked  her  to  explain  from 
whom  she  had  heard  the  incident  to  which  she  had  alluded 
during  her  conversation  with  the  Emperor,  at  the  ball  of 
Madame  de  Chasseloup  Laubat.  The  Countess,  though  taken 
quite  unawares,  persisted  in  her  assurance  that  she  did  not 
know  the  domino  who  had  imparted  it  to  her ;  that  she 
was  now  very  sorry  for  heedlessly  repeating  words  to  which 
she  had  attached  no  importance.  Eugenie  pressed  her  again 
and  again,  and  at  last  exclaimed  with  impatience,  as  she 
rose  from  her  chair :  "  People  like  to  be  asked  to  the 
Tuileries,  but  do  not  seem  to  consider  that  it  is  a  griev- 
ous want  of  tact  to  hold  converse  with  the  enemies  of  the 
Sovereign  whilst  doing  so."  "  And,"  added  the  Countess 
when  she  related  to  me  this  anecdote,  "  from  that  moment  I 
was  watched  at  every  step  by  the  secret  police,  and  to  this 
day  I  do  not  know  why  I  was  chosen  as  the  instrument  to 
deal  such  a  blow  to  Napoleon  III." 

I  have  related  this  anecdote  to  prove  how  very  much 
the  Emperor  dreaded  all  that  related  to  his  first  steps  in 
political  life,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Carbonari  and  other 
secret  associations  that  were  working  towards  the  unifica- 
tion of  Italy.  He  did  not  feel  himself  a  free  agent  in  that 
respect ;  no  one  knew  exactly  why,  because  he  never  ex- 
pressed himself  on  the  subject — but  it  is  certain  that  some 
of  the  most  unexpected  things  he  did  had  their  source  in 
this  mysterious  influence  which  made  him  appear  to  be  more 
or  less  averse  to  thwarting  the  desires  of  his  former  Italian 
friends. 

Napoleon  was  not  brilliant  by  any  means ;  but  he  was 

6 


Napoleon  and  Eugenie 

certainly  clever,  though  sometimes  lacking  in  initiative.  It 
is  not  likely  that  he  would  ever  have  had  the  courage  either 
to  escape  from  Ham,  or  to  overthrow  the  second  Republic, 
had  he  not  been  emboldened  in  the  first  of  these  attempts 
by  Conneau,  and  in  the  second  by  Morny  and  Fleury,  together 
with  the  active  Maupat.  He  lived  under  the  spell  of  the 
Napoleonic  tradition,  and  being  before  everything  else  a  fatalist, 
he  thought  himself  destined  to  ascend  the  throne  which 
his  uncle  had  conquered.  He  never  fought  against  destiny, 
and  so  acquired  an  apathy  which  totally  unfitted  him  for 
any  unexpected  struggle.  At  Sedan  he  surrendered  with 
hardly  a  murmur,  as,  though  he  well  knew  the  step  to  be 
a  fatal  one,  he  had  tolerated  MacMahon's  fatal  occupation 
of  that  fortress.  He  had  lost  all  faith  in  his  future,  and 
he  had  given  up  the  game  long  before  he  handed  his  sword 
to  the  conqueror. 

The  Emperor's  was  essentially  a  kind  nature.  During 
the  eighteen  years  of  his  reign  he  did  an  enormous  amount 
of  good,  and  certainly  France  owes  to  him  a  good  deal  of  her 
present  prosperity.  He  thought  about  his  people's  welfare 
more  than  had  any  previous  Sovereign ;  the  economic  ques- 
tion was  one  to  which  he  had  given  his  most  earnest  atten- 
tion. He  wanted  his  country  to  be  strong,  rich,  an  example 
to  others  in  its  energetic  progress  along  the  path  of  material 
and  intellectual  development.  He  was  a  lover  of  art ;  he 
was  a  keen  student,  an  admirer  of  literature ;  and  he  appre- 
ciated clever  men.  Catholic  in  his  tastes,  he  had  the  rare 
faculty  of  forgetting  the  wrongs  done  to  him,  in  the  remem- 
brance of  the  many  proofs  of  affection  he  had  experienced. 
Gifted  with  a  sweet  and  sunny  temperament,  he  had  been 
brought  up  in  the  school  of  adversity.  Amidst  all  the  gran- 
deur that  he  enjoyed  later  on,  he  never  forgot  the  lesson ; 
and  when  misfortune  once  more  assailed  him,  he  was  never 

7 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

heard  to  murmur,  or  to  reproach  those  whose  incapacity 
had  destroyed  his  life's  work. 

Socially,  Napoleon  never  forgot  that  the  first  duty  of  a 
monarch  is  ever  to  appear  to  be  amiable.  Whenever  he 
swerved  from  that  axiom  it  was  always  for  some  very  good 
reason.  He  had  great  tact,  and  possessed  to  perfection  the 
art  of  invariably  saying  the  right  thing  in  the  right  place. 
Yet  he  knew  very  well  how  to  differentiate  between  persons, 
and  to  accord  the  exact  shade  of  behaviour  towards  an 
Ambassador  or  to  an  Attache,  to  a  simple  tourist,  or  to  a 
foreign  personage  entrusted  with  a  mission  of  some  kind. 

He  was  entirely  interesting  in  all  his  remarks,  and  always 
conversant  with  the  subject  about  which  he  spoke.  Though 
he  had  pretensions  to  scientific  and  historical  knowledge, 
he  was  not  at  all  a  well-read  man  in  the  strict  sense ;  but  he 
had  a  wonderful  faculty  of  assimilating  all  that  he  read,  and 
after  having  quickly  run  through  a  book,  was  at  once 
acquainted  with  its  principal  points  or  defects.  Sceptical  in 
his  appreciations,  and  perhaps  in  his  beliefs,  he  had  the  utmost 
respect  for  the  convictions  of  his  fellow  creatures,  and  though 
by  no  means  a  religious  man,  reverenced  religion  deeply. 
His  faults  and  errors,  in  the  political  sense,  proceeded  more 
from  the  influence  of  his  immediate  entourage  than  from  his 
own  appreciation  of  right  and  wrong.  In  many  things  he 
deserves  to  be  pitied,  and  in  many  of  his  mistakes  he  was 
the  scapegoat  of  those  who  threw  their  blame  upon  his 
shoulders — a  blame  that  either  from  indifference  or  from 
disdain  he  accepted  without  a  murmur. 

Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem  to  say  so,  he  knew  humanity, 
but  not  the  people  with  whom  he  lived.  He  never  expected 
gratitude,  and  yet  he  believed  that  the  men  upon  whom  he 
had  showered  any  amount  of  benefits  would  feel  grateful 
to  him.  To  the  last  hour  of  his  life  he  thought  that  his 

8 


Napoleon  and  Eugenie 

dynasty  had  some  chance  to  recover  the  throne ;  and  he  re- 
mained convinced  of  the  fidelity  of  his  partisans  in  spite  of 
the  many  proofs  that  he  had  to  the  contrary.  His  many 
illusions  proceeded  from  the  kindness  of  his  nature,  a  kind- 
ness that  never  failed  him,  either  in  prosperity  or  in  disaster. 

I  was  introduced  to  Napoleon  III.  at  Compiegne.  I  had 
been  invited  there,  together  with  the  Russian  Ambassador, 
in  the  course  of  the  month  of  November  that  had  followed 
upon  my  appointment  in  Paris.  We  assembled  before  dinner 
in  what  was  called  the  Salle  des  Gardes,  a  long  apartment 
panelled  in  white,  to  which  a  profusion  of  flowers,  scattered 
everywhere,  gave  a  homely  look.  We  were  a  very  numer- 
ous company,  and  it  was  on  that  evening  I  became  acquainted 
with  many  leading  stars  in  the  Imperial  firmament.  We  did 
not  have  to  wait  long  before  a  door  was  opened  and  an 
huissier  called  out  in  a  loud  voice :  "  L'Empereur !  " 

The  Sovereigns  entered  the  room,  the  Empress  slightly 
in  front,  Napoleon  following  her  with  the  Princess  Clotilde 
on  his  arm.  He  began  at  once  to  talk  with  the  members 
of  the  Corps  Diplomatique,  whilst  his  Consort  approached 
the  ladies  gathered  together  at  one  end  of  the  vast  hall. 
When  my  Ambassador  presented  me,  Napoleon  asked  me 
whether  I  was  the  son  "  of  the  lovely  Countess  Vassili "  he 
had  known  in  London,  and  when  I  replied  to  him  in  the 
affirmative  he  at  once  began  to  talk  about  my  mother,  and 
the  many  opportunities  he  had  had  to  meet  her.  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  here,"  he  added,  "  and  I  hope  you  will  enjoy 
your  stay  in  France." 

The  Empress  on  that  day,  when  I  beheld  her  for  the  first 
time,  did  not  strike  me  as  so  absolutely  beautiful  as  I  had 
been  led  to  expect.  Later  on  I  found  out  that  her  greatest 
attraction  was  in  the  varying  charm  of  her  expressive  face. 
The  features  were  quite  lovely  in  their  regularity,  but  a 

9 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

certain  heaviness  in  the  chin  robbed  them  of  what  otherwise 
would  have  been  absolute  perfection.  The  mouth  had  a 
curve  which  told  that  on  occasion  the  Empress  could  be  very 
hard  and  disdainful,  but  the  eyes  and  the  hair  were  glorious, 
the  figure  splendid,  and  she  had  an  inimitable  grace  in  her 
every  movement.  With  the  exception  of  the  Empress  Marie 
Feodorovna  of  Russia,  I  have  never  seen  anyone  bow  like 
Eugenie,  with  that  sweeping  movement  of  her  whole  body 
and  head,  that  seemed  to  be  addressed  to  each  person  present 
in  particular  and  to  all  in  general.  On  that  particular  even- 
ing she  was  a  splendid  vision  in  evening  dress.  Her  white 
shoulders  shone  above  the  low  bodice  of  her  gown,  and 
many  jewels  adorned  her  beautiful  person.  But  though 
she  excited  admiration  she  did  not  at  first  appeal  either 
to  the  senses  or  to  the  imagination  of  men.  At  least,  so  it 
seemed  to  me,  whatever  might  have  been  said  to  the  con- 
trary. Later  on,  however,  when  one  had  opportunity  to  see 
her  more  frequently,  and  especially  to  talk  with  her,  her 
personality  grew  upon  one  with  an  especial  charm  that  has 
never  been  equalled  by  any  other  woman.  She  was  not 
brilliant ;  she  held  strong  opinions ;  she  was  very  much 
impressed  by  her  position,  though,  it  must  be  owned,  not 
in  the  least  dazzled  by  her  extraordinary  success  ;  she  was 
impulsive  ;  she  was  not  overwhelmingly  tactful ;  had  much 
knowledge  of  the  world,  but  little  knowledge  of  mankind  ; 
she  wounded  sometimes  when  she  had  no  intention  of  doing 
so ;  she  was  romantic,  though  unsentimental ;  there  were 
the  strangest  contradictions  in  her  nature,  the  strangest 
mixtures  of  good  and  bad  ;  but  with  all  her  defects  she  com- 
pletely subjugated  those  who  got  to  know  her,  whatever 
might  have  been  the  first  impression.  Her  glances  had 
something  of  Spanish  softness  blended  with  French  coquetry. 
In  a  word,  she  was  a  most  attractive  woman — one  of  the 

10 


EMPRESS    EUGENIE 


Napoleon  and  Eugenie 

most  attractive  that  has  ever  lived — but  she  certainly  was 
not  an  ideal  Sovereign. 

When  Eugenie  married  she  was  already  twenty-seven,  and 
therefore  it  was  not  easy  for  her  to  become  used  to  the  vari- 
ous duties  and  obligations  of  her  new  position.  She  was  a 
thorough  woman  of  the  world,  which  rendered  her  especially 
charming  when  at  Compiegne  or  at  Fontainebleau,  where 
etiquette  was  not  so  strict  as  at  the  Tuileries.  At  those 
moments  she  was  positively  bewitching,  but  when  she  thought 
it  necessary  to  assume  her  Imperial  manner  she  lost  her 
womanly  charm. 

There  have  been  many  beautiful  moments  in  Eugenie's 
life ;  such,  for  instance,  as  her  famous  visit  to  Amiens  at  the 
time  the  cholera  was  raging  there,  and  when,  with  a  truly 
royal  indifference,  she  exposed  herself  to  very  real  and 
serious  danger.  She  was  charitable,  and  preferred  not  to 
boast  of  her  charities  ;  but,  not  possessing  the  Emperor's 
disposition,  she  resented  injuries  done  to  her.  She  was  im- 
petuous in  all  that  she  did,  thought,  or  felt ;  certainly  bigoted 
and  superstitious,  as  Spaniards  generally  are.  She  was 
not  courageous,  though  brave,  because  these  are  two  very 
different  things.  She  would  not  have  minded  being  mur- 
dered in  state,  and  the  memory  of  the  deed  being  handed 
down  to  posterity ;  but  she  could  not  find  the  resolution  to 
face  an  intricate  situation,  nor  to  remain  silent  and  firm  at 
a  difficult  moment.  Her  nature  was  essentially  restless  ;  she 
could  never  wrait  with  patience  for  what  the  future  might 
hold.  Her  attitude  on  the  4th  of  September  was  characteristic, 
and  it  was  in  accordance  with  her  nature  that  she  tried  to 
explain  the  abandonment  of  her  position  as  Regent  by  the 
word  "  necessity,"  when,  in  reality,  it  was  the  shrinking  of  a 
lonely  woman,  with  no  one  near  her  to  tell  her  what  she  ought 
to  do,  or  to  show  her  how  to  resist  the  demands  of  the  mob. 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

But  once  more  I  must  say  she  exercised  a  wonderful 
fascination  on  all  those  whom  she  entertained.  There  was 
something  remarkable  in  the  influence  she  exercised.  In  her 
presence  one  forgot  all  save  her  extraordinary  charm. 

In  her  private  life  Eugenie  de  Monti  jo,  in  spite  of  all  that 
has  been  said  and  written  on  that  subject,  has  always  been 
irreproachable.  Amid  all  the  gaieties  of  the  Court  over  which 
she  presided  she  remained  pure  and  chaste,  and  redeemed 
the  many  frailties  of  her  outward  demeanour  by  the  dignity 
and  blamelessness  of  her  existence  as  a  wife  and  mother.  She 
bitterly  resented  the  indiscretions  of  the  Emperor,  but  she 
kept  herself  aloof  from  everything  that  could  have  been 
construed  as  a  desire  on  her  part  to  retaliate.  Perhaps  her 
temperament  helped  her ;  but  it  is  certain  that  as  a  wife  she 
was  blameless,  and  that  she  showed  herself  an  enlightened 
mother,  trying  to  bring  up  her  son  above  the  flatteries  that 
usually  surround  children  born  in  such  a  high  position,  teach- 
ing him  to  obey,  to  be  grateful  to  those  who  took  care  of 
him,  and  loving  him  quite  as  well  and  more  wisely  than  the 
Emperor,  who  was  perhaps  too  indulgent  in  matters  which 
concerned  his  only  son.  That  the  Prince  Imperial  remained 
an  only  child  was  a  source  of  deep  grief  to  Napoleon  III. 

When  first  I  saw  Eugenie,  her  whole  appearance  was 
fairy-like;  in  spite  of  her  forty  years,  she  eclipsed  all  other 
women.  Her  slight,  graceful  figure  was  almost  girlish  in  its 
suppleness,  and  she  is  the  only  woman  I  have  ever  seen  who, 
though  in  middle  life,  did  not  prompt  one  to  utter  the  usual 
remark  when  lovely  members  of  the  fair  sex  have  attained 
her  age  :  "  How  beautiful  she  must  have  been  when  she 
was  young !  " 


12 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   SURROUNDINGS  AND  FRIENDS  OF  THE  SOVEREIGNS 

WHEN  Napoleon  III.  married,  he  tried  to  establish  his  Court 
on  the  same  footing  as  that  of  his  uncle  after  the  latter's 
union  with  Marie  Louise,  and  fearing  that,  in  spite  of  his 
affection,  his  young  wife  would  find  it  hard  to  get  used  to 
her  exalted  position,  he  surrounded  her  with  the  trammels 
of  a  severe  etiquette.  From  this,  however,  she  gradually 
emancipated  herself,  especially  during  the  time  when  she 
acted  as  Regent  for  the  Emperor,  at  the  period  of  the  war 
of  1859  with  Austria. 

This  emancipation  was  in  itself  a  curious  phase.  In  her 
way  Eugenie  was  just  as  anxious  as  the  Emperor  to  order 
her  household  upon  the  same  lines  as  those  of  the  other 
great  Courts  of  Europe.  Especially  with  that  of  Windsor 
she  had  been  deeply  impressed,  when  with  the  Emperor  she 
visited  Queen  Victoria.  But  she  was  not  endowed  by  nature 
with  that  reserved  dignity  which  is  a  necessity  to  regal  rank, 
and  the  result  stultified  her  efforts.  The  Empress,  when  a 
girl,  had  enjoyed  far  more  liberty  than  girls  had  at  the  tune 
of  which  I  am  writing.  This  lack  of  control  led  her  sometimes 
to  forget  her  rank  as  Empress,  and  she  found  herself  drifting 
into  her  old  habits  of  saying  everything  that  occurred  to  her, 
or  of  allowing  her  sympathies  and  her  antipathies  to  be  seen 
by  a  public  always  eager  and  ready  to  criticise. 

She  had  but  few  friends,  and  after  the  death  of  her  sister, 
the  Duchesse  d'Albe,  she  felt  very  isolated,  and  in  need  of 

13 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

one  into  whose  ear  she  might  confide  her  sorrows  and  her 
joys.  She  did  not  get  on  with  the  members  of  the  Imperial 
Family,  and  she  had  been  very  much  hurt  at  the  attitude 
taken  up  in  regard  to  her  by  the  Princess  Clotilde.  Eugenie 
had  received  the  Princess  with  open  arms,  but  had  met  with 
repulse  from  the  very  first  moment  Clotilde  arrived  in  France. 
Then,  again,  Eugenie's  relations  with  Prince  Napoleon  became 
of  the  worst,  perhaps  owing  to  the  fact  that  there  had  been 
a  day,  before  her  marriage  with  the  Emperor,  when  those 
relations  were  very  near.  The  antagonism  towards  her  which 
the  only  cousin  of  her  husband  chose  to  adopt,  wounded  her 
to  the  quick,  and  instead  of  trying  to  overcome  it  with  tact 
and  apparent  indifference,  she  did  her  best  to  accentuate 
his  animosity,  until  open  warfare  resulted,  and  the  strained 
situation  became  a  general  topic  of  gossip. 

With  Princess  Mathilde,  the  sister  of  the  Prince,  the 
Empress  was,  also,  not  on  intimate  terms,  although  apparently 
they  bore  one  another  affection.  The  Princess  was  perhaps 
the  most  remarkable  among  the  many  fascinating  women 
with  whom  the  Second  Empire  will  remain  associated.  Sur- 
passingly beautiful  in  her  youth,  she  retained  her  good  looks, 
and  notwithstanding  her  embonpoint,  possessed  a  personality 
of  great  dignity.  She  was  certainly  a  grande  dame,  despite 
her  numerous  frailties. 

She  was  clever,  kind,  brilliant  in  more  senses  than  one  ; 
very  talented,  she  liked  to  surround  herself  with  clever  people, 
who,  in  their  turn,  were  glad  to  have  her  appreciation.  There 
had  been  a  time  when  the  question  of  a  marriage  between 
her  and  her  cousin,  Prince  Louis  Napoleon,  had  been  dis- 
cussed, but  the  latter's  chances  were  so  uncertain,  that  neither 
Mathilde  nor  her  father  had  had  the  courage  to  run  the  risk 
of  uniting  her  destiny  with  that  of  the  Pretender. 

The  Princess  married  M.  Demidoff,  and  very  soon  regretted 

'4 


Friends  of  the  Sovereigns 

it ;  so  deeply  that  she  tried  to  break  the  bonds.  Thanks  to 
the  intervention  of  the  Emperor  Nicholas  of  Russia,  a  separa- 
tion was  arranged  under  very  favourable  terms  for  Madame 
Demidoff,  who,  by  permission  of  the  government  of  Louis 
Philippe,  settled  in  Paris.  She  did  not  mix  with  politics, 
and  only  tried  to  create  for  herself  a  pleasant  circle  of  ac- 
quaintances and  friends.  Unfortunately,  she  possessed  in 
addition  to  a  superior  and  cultivated  mind,  a  very  ardent 
temperament,  and  gossip  soon  became  busy  with  her  name, 
especially  after  her  liaison  with  Count  de  Nieuwekerke  became 
a  recognised  fact. 

When  the  Revolution  of  1848  brought  back  to  France 
the  heir  to  the  Bonaparte  traditions,  the  Princess  Mathilde 
at  once  hastened  to  his  side,  and  showed  herself  to  be  the 
best  of  friends.  It  was  the  Princess  Mathilde  who  presided 
at  his  first  entertainment  at  Compiegne,  as  well  as  at  the 
Elysee,  where  he  was  residing  when  in  the  capital,  and  it 
was  at  her  house  that  the  Prince  President,  as  he  was  called, 
met  for  the  first  time  the  lovely  Spaniard  who  was  later  to 
become  his  wife. 

The  Princess  Mathilde  did  not  like  the  marriage,  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  she  might  have  occupied  the  place  which  this 
stranger  took,  as  it  were  by  storm  ;  she  would  hardly  have 
been  human  had  she  done  so.  But  she  was  far  too  clever 
to  show  her  disapproval,  and  it  is  related  that  when  the 
question  arose  as  to  who  should  carry  the  train  of  the  new 
Empress,  Mathilde  at  once  declared  that  she  would  do  so 
if  the  Emperor  asked  her,  much  to  the  astonishment  and 
perhaps  to  the  scandal  of  those  who  heard  her.  She  bore 
no  malice,  and  thought  herself  far  too  great  a  lady  to  imagine 
that  by  whatever  she  might  do  she  would  fall  in  the  estimation 
of  others,  or  that  it  would  be  derogatory  to  her  position. 

But  though  she  consented  to  receive  the  future  wife  of 

15 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

her  cousin  when  first  she  entered  the  Tuileries,  and  though 
she  tried  hard  to  establish  friendly  relations  with  her,  all 
her  efforts  failed,  partly  because  the  young  Empress  felt 
afraid  of  the  brilliant  Princess,  and  of  her  sharp  tongue  and 
brusque  manners,  partly,  also,  because  Mathilde  did  not  care 
for  the  people  who  formed  the  entourage  of  the  Sovereign, 
and  never  felt  at  her  ease  at  the  many  entertainments  given 
by  Eugenie.  She  thought  them  either  too  dull  or  too  boisterous. 

Mathilde  was  never  so  happy  as  when  in  her  own  house 
in  the  Rue  de  Courcelles,  where  all  that  was  distinguished  in 
France  considered  it  an  honour  to  be  admitted,  and  where 
she  could  live  the  life  of  a  private  lady  of  high  rank.  She 
was  too  frank  to  conceal  what  she  felt,  and  too  honest  to 
flatter  the  Empress,  or  to  find  charming  what  she  considered 
to  be  the  reverse.  Though  she  disapproved  of  many  things 
that  her  brother,  Prince  Napoleon,  did,  she  did  not  care  to 
blame  him  publicly,  and  thus  she  maintained  a  neutral  attitude 
in  regard  to  both.  Eugenie's  airy  disposition  and  love  of 
amusement  in  any  shape  or  form  prevented  her  from  finding 
pleasure  in  the  company  of  the  Princess  Mathilde,  whom  she 
thought  exceedingly  dull,  and  whom  she  accused  of  fomenting 
the  accusations  which  her  enemies  showered  upon  her.  So 
long  as  the  Empire  lasted  there  was  no  sympathy  between 
the  Empress  and  her  husband's  cousin,  and  it  was  only  later, 
when  both  ladies  had  realised  the  emptiness  of  worldly  things, 
that  their  relations  became  intimate  and  affectionate,  so 
much  so  that  when  Mathilde  Bonaparte  died,  it  was  Eugenie 
who  watched  beside  her,  and  whose  hands  were  the  last  she 
pressed  before  expiring. 

The  best  friend  that  the  Empress  Eugenie  had  among 
the  members  of  the  Imperial  Family  was  the  Princess  Anna 
Murat,  who  married  the  Duke  of  Mouchy,  to  the  horror  of 
all  the  Noailles  family,  and  the  chagrin  of  the  Faubourg  St. 

16 


Friends  of  the  Sovereigns 

Germain  generally.  Princess  Anna  was  one  of  the  loveliest 
women  of  her  time,  though  perhaps  not  one  of  the  brightest. 
Still,  she  had  a  warm  heart,  a  kindly  disposition,  and  a  sincere 
attachment  for  the  Empress.  She  had  very  nice  dignified 
manners,  if  sometimes  stiff,  and  was  perhaps  the  only  really 
grande  dame,  with  the  exception  of  the  Princess  Mathilde, 
among  the  many  ladies  with  whom  Eugenie  liked  to  surround 
herself. 

Very  much  might  be  said  ^about  the  ladies  of  the  Court. 
There  were  lovely  women,  such  as  the  Countess  Valovska,  ne'e 
Anna  Ricci,  the  dark  Florentine,  whose  smiles  won  her  so 
many  hearts,  including  that  of  Napoleon  III.  ;  others  were 
clever  like  Pauline  Metternich,  and  some  were  both  lovely 
and  clever,  Melanie  Pourtales  for  instance,  that  star  of  the 
Empire  who  condescended  later  to  shine  in  the  Republican 
firmament,  and  who  to  this  day  is  one  of  the  celebrities  of 
Paris,  in  spite  of  her  seventy  odd  years.  There  was  the 
Duchesse  de  Persigny,  and  the  Duchesse  de  Cadore,  and  the 
Baroness  de  Rothschild,  and  many  others,  but  among  them 
all  the  Empress  could  not  boast  of  a  real  friend,  always  with 
the  exception  of  the  Duchesse  de  Mouchy,  who  owed  her  far 
too  much  ever  to  dare  criticise  anything  she  did. 

I  have  mentioned  the  Princess  Metternich.  Among  all 
those  to  whose  fatal  influence  the  Second  Empire  owed  its 
fall  she  holds  one  of  the  first  and  foremost  places.  She  it 
was  who  sapped  its  foundations  and  lowered  its  dignity ; 
she  it  was  who  with  a  rude  hand  pulled  back  the  veil  which, 
until  she  appeared  at  Compiegne  and  at  the  Tuileries,  had 
still  been  drawn  between  the  general  public  and  the  Imperial 
Court.  Young  and  ugly,  but  clever  and  gifted  with  what 
the  French  call  brio,  she  lived  but  for  one  thing,  and  that  was 
amusement  in  any  shape  or  form.  She  had  no  respect  for  the 
society  in  which  she  found  herself,  and  brought  to  Paris 
c  17 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

an  atmosphere  of  carelessness  such  as  we  sometimes  display 
when  we  find  ourselves  travelling  in  a  country  where  we 
are  unknown,  and  where  we  can  do  what  we  like  without 
fear  of  the  qu'en  dira-t-on,  or,  as  they  say  in  England,  "  Mrs. 
Grundy."  After  some  experience  of  the  strict  etiquette  of 
the  Austrian  Hofburg,  she  felt  delighted  to  be  able  to  dispense 
with  it,  and  treated  the  Empress  with  disdain,  making  use 
of  her  in  order  to  attain  her  own  ends,  and  ruling  the  Tuileries 
like  some  of  the  present  great  ladies  in  pecuniary  straits  rule 
the  houses  of  the  American  or  South  African  millionaires 
whom — for  a  consideration — they  introduce  into  society. 
The  behaviour  of  the  Princess  Metternich  can  be  characterised 
by  her  remark  to  a  lady  who,  at  Compiegne,  reproved  her 
for  trying  to  induce  the  Empress  to  appear  in  public  in  a 
short  gown,  a  thing  that  was  not  considered  to  be  proper 
at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing.  The  friend  asked  her  at 
the  same  time  whether  she  would  have  advised  the  Empress 
Elizabeth  to  do  such  a  thing  ;  she  replied  vehemently  :  "  No, 
certainly  not,  I  would  not  do  such  a  thing,  but  then  my 
Empress  is  a  real  one." 

Pauline  Metternich  never  liked  Eugenie ;  she  secretly 
envied  her  for  her  beauty.  She  encouraged  her  in  every 
false  or  mistaken  step  the  Empress  unwittingly  took.  She 
brought  a  shade  of  vulgarity  into  all  the  entertainments  over 
which  she  presided  and  which  she  organised.  She  smoked 
big  cigars  without  minding  in  the  least  whether  it  pleased 
the  Empress  or  not,  and  she  allowed  herself  every  kind  of 
liberty,  sure  of  immunity,  and  careless  as  to  what  people  thought 
about  her.  She  showed  herself  the  most  ungrateful  of  beings, 
forsaking  her  friend  when  the  latter  was  precipitated  into 
obscurity  and  misfortune,  never  once  giving  her  a  thought. 
Pauline  Metternich  was  a  perfect  type  of  an  opportunist  without 
a  memory,  and  after  having  danced,  eaten,  smoked,  enjoyed 

18 


Friends  of  the  Sovereigns 

herself  at  the  Tuileries  where  she  always  was  a  favoured  guest, 
she  never  once  sent  a  message  of  sympathy  to  the  discarded 
Sovereign,  whose  acquaintance  she  probably  thought  irksome 
and  inconvenient.  Once  in  a  moment  of  expansion,  so  the 
story  goes,  she  gave  way  to  a  remark  which  deserves  to  pass 
to  posterity  concerning  those  years  during  which  she  was 
the  leading  spirit  at  all  the  entertainments  given  at  the 
Tuileries,  and  which  I  cannot  help  reproducing  here  :  A 
diplomat  who  had  known  her  in  Paris  asked  her  whether  she 
did  not  regret  the  Second  Empire,  and  received  a  character- 
istic reply :  "  Regret  it  ?  Why  ?  It  was  very  amusing, 
very  vulgar,  and  it  could  not  last ;  we  all  knew  it,  and  we 
all  made  hay  whilst  the  sun  shone." 

Countess  Melanie  Pourtales,  in  that  respect,  was  far  superior 
to  Princess  Metternich ;  she  at  least  had  the  decency  to  remain 
faithful  to  her  former  sympathies  and  to  her  Bonapartist 
leanings.  To  this  day  she  sees  the  Empress  when  the  latter 
visits  Paris,  and  she  never  indulges  in  one  word  of  blame 
concerning  that  far  away  time  when  she  also  was  one  of  the 
queens  of  the  Tuileries. 

Melanie  de  Bussieres  is  one  of  the  marvels  of  last  century. 
As  beautiful  as  a  dream,  she  had  an  angelic  face,  lovely  innocent 
eyes,  which  used  to  look  at  the  world  with  the  guilelessness  of 
a  child,  and  a  Madonna-like  expression  that  reminded  one  of 
a  long  white  lily  drooping  on  its  stem.  She  was  intelligent, 
too,  had  an  enormous  amount  of  tact,  and  succeeded,  whilst 
denying  herself  none  of  her  caprices,  in  keeping  unimpaired 
her  place  in  Parisian  society,  of  retaining  as  her  friends  all 
those  to  whom  the  world  had  given  another  name,  and  of 
acquiring  a  position  such  as  few  women  have  ever  had  before 
her.  Always  kind,  rarely  malicious,  smiling  alike  on  friends 
and  foes,  she  contrived  to  disarm  the  latter,  and  never  to 
estrange  the  former.  Though  very  much  envied,  yet  she  was 

19 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

liked,  and  she  inspired  with  enthusiasm  all  those  with  whom 
she  was  brought  into  contact.  Now  she  is  a  great-grand- 
mother, but  still  a  leading  light  of  social  Paris,  and  those 
who  formerly  admired  her  beauty  continue  to  crowd  around 
her  in  order  to  listen  to  her  conversation. 

When  I  entered  the  circle  of  Imperialist  society,  I  was 
struck  by  the  number  of  pretty  women  that  I  met  there. 
They  were  not  all  clever  ;  a  good  many  were  vulgar,  but  most 
of  them  were  lovely.  A  ball  at  that  time  was  a  pretty  sight, 
far  prettier  than  it  is  at  the  present  day,  and  as  for  amuse- 
ment, one  could  find  it  wherever  one  went.  Morals,  on  the 
other  hand,  were  no  worse  than  is  the  case  at  present ;  indeed, 
in  many  respects  they  were  better,  insomuch  that  it  was  far 
more  difficult  then,  owing  to  the  conditions  of  existence,  for 
a  lady  belonging  to  the  upper  classes  to  misbehave  herself 
than  is  the  case  at  present,  when  women  go  freely  everywhere, 
whilst  during  the  Second  Empire  it  was  hardly  possible  for  a 
well-known  lady  to  be  seen  in  a  cab  or  a  'bus,  or  even  walking 
in  unfrequented  streets.  "  Le  diable  n'y  perdait  rien,"  to  use 
an  old  French  expression ;  but  a  certain  decorum,  totally  absent 
nowadays,  had  to  be  adhered  to,  and  the  Empress  was  very 
severe  upon  all  those  who  infringed  its  rules.  She  had  attacks 
of  prudery,  as  it  were,  during  which  she  posed  as  a  watcher 
over  the  morals  of  her  Court.  Such  a  procedure  among  the 
very  carefully  immoral  persons  who  surrounded  her  made 
many  people  smile. 

The  Emperor  also  had  but  few  personal  friends.  The 
most  faithful  and  devoted  perhaps  was  Dr.  Conneau,  who  had 
watched  over  Queen  Hortense  during  her  last  illness,  and  who 
had  given  to  her  son  the  most  sincere  proofs  of  affection  that 
one  man  can  give  to  another.  Conneau  was  that  rara  avis, 
a  totally  disinterested  person.  Millions  had  passed  through 
his  hands,  but  he  died  poor,  and  when  the  Empire  fell  he  was 

20 


Friends  of  the  Sovereigns 

reduced  to  selling  a  collection  of  rare  books  he  possessed,  in 
order  to  have  bread  in  his  old  age.  He  loved  Napoleon  with 
his  whole  heart,  soul,  and  mind,  and  belonged  to  the  very 
few  who  cared  for  and  believed  in  the  traditions  of  the  Bona- 
partes.  He  did  infinite  good  during  the  eighteen  years  the 
Empire  lasted,  and  never  refused  to  lay  a  case  of  distress 
before  Napoleon  III.  once  it  was  brought  to  his  notice.  Every- 
body respected  him,  and  he  was  a  general  favourite  with 
everyone,  except  perhaps  with  the  Empress,  who  felt  no  per- 
sonal sympathy  for  him. 

Conneau  had  voluntarily  asked  to  be  allowed  to  share 
the  Emperor's  captivity  at  Ham,  and  it  was  thanks  to  him 
that  the  latter  contrived  to  escape  from  that  fortress  disguised 
as  a  workman,  with  a  plank  on  his  shoulder,  behind  which 
he  hid  his  face.  Whilst  Napoleon  was  hastening  towards  the 
Belgian  frontier,  Conneau  did  his  best  to  hide  his  flight  from 
the  authorities,  declaring  to  those  who  wanted  to  see  him 
that  he  was  ill  and  asleep  in  his  bed.  Conneau  had  cunningly 
arranged  the  pillows  in  such  a  way  that  they  appeared  to 
represent  a  body  wrapped  up  in  blankets.  He  knew  very  well 
that  in  doing  this  he  was  running  a  great  risk,  but  nothing 
stopped  him,  and  it  is  certain  that  to  his  bold  initiative 
Napoleon  III.  owed  first  his  escape  and  afterwards  his  Imperial 
Crown. 

Conneau  never  left  the  Emperor,  who  breathed  his  last  in 
that  faithful  servant's  arms,  murmuring  before  doing  so : 
"  Conneau,  were  you  at  Sedan  ?  "  thus  showing  how  incurable 
had  been  the  wound  received  on  that  fatal  day  which  saw 
the  fall  of  his  throne  and  of  his  dynasty. 

Conneau,  with  perhaps  the  exception  of  M.  Mocquard, 
Napoleon's  private  secretary,  was  the  person  who  knew  the 
best  of  the  Emperor's  character,  and  he  remained  faithful 
to  him  to  the  last.  One  day  a  friend  asked  him  whether  he 

21 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

was  sorry  not  to  have  died  before  the  fall  of  the  Empire,  and 
to  have  witnessed  the  terrible  catastrophes  that  accompanied 
it.  Conneau  immediately  replied  :  "I  am  sorry  for  myself, 
but  glad  for  the  Emperor,  who  would  have  had  one  friend  less 
around  him  in  his  misfortune."  The  remark  is  characteristic 
of  the  man. 

Mocquard  also  belonged  to  the  few  friends  of  Napoleon 
III.  who  had  known  his  mother  Queen  Hortense,  and  who 
had  devoted  his  life  to  the  cause  of  the  Bonapartes.  He  was 
one  of  the  pleasantest  men  of  his  day,  always  on  the  alert 
to  learn  or  to  hear  everything  that  could  be  useful  to  his 
Imperial  master.  Gifted  with  singular  tact,  he  was  able 
with  advantage  to  come  out  of  the  most  entangled  and  awk- 
ward situations.  His  reply  to  Berryer,  who  had  written  to 
him  telling  him  that  his  political  convictions  prevented  him 
from  asking  to  be  presented  to  the  Emperor  on  his  election 
to  the  French  Academy,  is  well  known,  and  proves  his  ability 
in  that  respect.  The  great  advocate,  in  writing  to  Mocquard, 
had  appealed  to  him  as  a  former  colleague.  Napoleon's  private 
secretary  at  once  responded  to  his  request,  and  gave  him 
the  most  courteous  and  most  respectful  reproof,  in  which  the 
dignity  of  his  Sovereign  and  that  of  the  great  advocate  were 
equally  taken  into  account. 

"  The  Emperor,"  wrote  Mocquard,  "  regrets  that  M. 
Berryer  has  allowed  his  political  leanings  to  get  the  upper 
hand  of  his  duties  as  Academician.  M.  Berryer's  presence  at 
the  Tuileries  would  not  have  embarrassed  His  Majesty,  as 
he  seems  to  dread.  From  the  height  on  which  he  finds  himself 
raised,  the  Emperor  would  only  have  seen  in  the  new  Acade- 
mician an  orator  and  a  writer ;  in  to-day's  adversary,  the 
defender  of  yesterday.  M.  Berryer  is  perfectly  free  to  obey 
the  general  practice  imposed  by  the  Academy,  or  to  follow 
his  personal  repugnances." 

22 


Friends  of  the  Sovereigns 

A  friend  of  Berryer,  who  happened  to  be  with  him  when 
that  letter  reached  him,  related  to  me  later  that  that  famous 
ornament  of  the  French  Bar  for  once  in  his  life  felt  embar- 
rassed, and  acknowledged  his  regret  at  thus  having  drawn  upon 
himself  a  well  deserved  and  tactfully  administered  rebuff. 

When  Mocouard  died  his  place  was  taken  by  M.  Conti, 
also  a  clever  man,  who  was  in  possession  of  the  post  at  the 
time  I  arrived  in  Paris.  He  did  not  succeed  in  gaining  the 
confidence  of  the  Emperor,  as  his  predecessor  had  done,  and 
I  believe  never  felt  quite  at  ease  in  his  difficult  position.  I 
do  not  know  what  became  of  him  after  the  fall  of  the  Empire. 

General  Fleury  was  already  Ambassador  in  St.  Petersburg 
at  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking.  He  had  been,  and  still 
was,  one  of  the  most  intimate  friends  of  the  Emperor,  but 
he  was  not  liked  by  the  Empress,  whose  influence  he  had 
always  tried  to  thwart.  Eugenie  was  delighted  when  he 
was  sent  on  his  foreign  mission ;  she  had  never  got  used  to 
the  General :  perhaps  he  knew  too  many  things  relating  to  that 
distant  time  when  Mademoiselle  de  Monti  jo  had  never  dreamt 
that  fate  held  a  crown  in  reserve  for  her.  And  then  one  of  the 
Empress's  closest  acquaintances,  the  Comtesse  de  Beaulain- 
court,  the  daughter  of  the  Marshal  de  Castellane,  and  formerly 
Marquise  de  Contades,  had  an  undying  grudge  against  General 
Fleury.  It  must  be  owned  that  he  had  not  behaved  altogether 
well  in  regard  to  her,  and  she  used  her  best  endeavours  to  harm 
him  in  the  mind  of  the  impressionable  Eugenie,  to  whom  she 
represented  the  General  as  one  of  her  worst  enemies.  This 
was  not  the  case ;  but  Fleury  had  no  sympathy  for  the  Empress, 
and  certainly  did  nothing  to  further  her  views  or  her  opinions 
in  regard  to  politics,  as  she  would  have  liked  him  to  do.  To 
hun  is  credited  the  most  severe  comment  that  ever  was  made 
on  the  subject  of  the  marriage  between  the  Emperor  and 
the  lovely  Spaniard  who  had  captivated  his  fancy ;  that 

23 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

comment  was  revealed  to  the  world  through  the  indiscretion 
of  Madame  de  Contades,  as  she  was  at  that  time.  Fleury  had 
been  asked  why  he  objected  so  much  to  his  future  Sovereign  : 
"  I  do  not  like  her,"  he  replied,  "  because  I  feel  that  she  will 
insist  upon  wearing  her  crown  in  her  bed  and  her  night-cap 
in  public."  This  bitter  remark  being  repeated  to  the  person 
whom  it  most  concerned,  was  never  forgiven  by  her. 

Fleury,  Persigny,  and  Morny  had  been  the  most  trusted 
advisers  of  Napoleon  III.,  but  unfortunately  I  never  had 
opportunity  to  meet  any  of  them.  With  their  removal  from 
the  political  scene,  the  Empire  lost  its  most  solid  supports. 
The  ability  of  M.  Rouher  could  not  stave  off  the  supreme 
calamity  that  was  to  cast  it  into  the  abyss ;  and  as  for  M.  Emile 
Ollivier,  about  whom  I  shall  have  more  to  say  presently,  he 
had  neither  the  energy  nor  the  moral  courage  to  resist  the 
current  that  went  against  him  and  that  swept  away  a  regime. 

In  general,  when  I  look  back  upon  those  last  two  years 
of  the  Second  Empire,  and  try  to  recapitulate  all  that  I  saw, 
I  cannot  find  anyone,  with  the  few  exceptions  already  men- 
tioned, who  was  really  the  friend  of  either  the  Emperor  or  the 
Empress.  Surrounded  by  flatterers,  admirers,  courtiers,  they 
had  around  them  no  really  devoted  people  willing  to  risk 
anything  in  order  to  prove  their  affection.  The  Tuileries 
seemed  to  be  one  vast  Liberty  Hall,  inhabited  by  men  and 
women  who  knew  very  well  that  they  had  but  a  short 
time  before  them  to  enjoy  the  good  things  of  this  world, 
and  whose  only  care  was  how  they  could  escape  with  the 
most  advantage  from  situations  which  all  the  time  they  felt 
to  be  shaking  under  their  feet.  Indeed,  the  Court  reminded 
one  of  a  vast  cuvee  out  of  which  everybody  tried  to  snatch 
some  prize.  It  was  a  case  of  eating,  drinking  and  being  merry, 
but  without  thinking  that  for  all  these  things  there  would 
one  day  be  a  reckoning. 

24 


CHAPTER  III 

FONTAINEBLEAU  AND  COMPIEGNE 

THOUGH  still  a  young  man  when  I  was  appointed  to  Paris 
— a  man  of  thirty-two  years  is  considered  to  be  quite  young — 
I  had  already  a  considerable  experience  of  the  world,  and  knew 
the  society  of  most  European  capitals,  having  been  at  every 
European  Court.  I  was  very  well  able,  therefore,  to  judge 
of  what  I  saw,  and  to  form  a  reliable  opinion,  good  or  bad, 
of  the  people  with  whom  I  came  into  contact. 

I  must  confess  at  once  that  I  arrived  in  France  with  certain 
prejudices  against  the  regime,  and  I  did  not  examine  it  at 
first  with  over-indulgent  eyes.  But  as  I  grew  to  know  the 
Emperor  and  the  Empress  well,  many  of  these  prejudices 
vanished.  The  kindness  of  the  Emperor,  and  his  boundless 
generosity,  could  not  but  impress  favourably,  and  as  for 
Eugenie,  her  powerful  charm  made  one  forget  other  sides 
of  her  character.  When  in  their  presence  it  was  difficult 
to  realise  that  they  were  Sovereigns,  or  to  have  the  feeling, 
whether  at  the  Tuileries,  at  Compiegne,  or  at  Fontainebleau, 
that  one  was  at  a  Royal  Court.  A  mixture  of  formality  and 
of  gaiety  without  restraint  was  prevalent,  which  entirely  upset 
one's  notions  of  what  should  constitute  the  atmosphere  of 
a  Court.  Eugenie  was  an  incomparable  hostess,  even  if  some- 
times eccentric  ;  Napoleon  was  the  most  thoughtful  of  hosts, 
though  restless  at  times,  and  showing  some  impatience  at 
different  vagaries  indulged  in  by  his  guests ;  still,  though 
each  was  addressed  as  "  Your  Majesty,"  it  was  in  much 

25 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  same  spirit  that   one  would  have  said   "Monsieur"   or 
"  Madame  "  ;  deference  was  lacking. 

In  spite  of  the  shade  of  Bohemianism  which  presided 
over  the  annual  gatherings  at  Compiegne  and  at  Fontaine- 
bleau,  the  invitations  were  always  coveted,  and  with  reason, 
for  a  week  spent  at  either  place  was  certainly  most  enjoyable. 
The  autumn  season  generally  saw  the  Sovereigns  at  Compiegne, 
which  the  Empress  liked  very  much,  and  there  could  be  met 
all  the  celebrities  of  modern  France  and  a  good  many  foreigners, 
whom  the  Imperial  couple  liked  to  encourage  to  visit  France, 
and  on  whom  they  lavished  every  attention.  They  were 
generally  asked  to  stay  a  full  week,  and  privileged  persons 
were  sometimes  invited  to  extend  their  sojourn.  Life  was 
very  pleasant  in  this  old  home  of  the  Bourbon  dynasty,  and 
the  liberty  left  to  the  guests  to  do  what  they  liked  added  to 
its  charm.  One  rode,  one  hunted,  one  drove,  and  one 
flirted  to  one's  heart's  content,  and  the  only  thing  which 
was  asked  was  punctuality  at  meals  and  admiration  for  the 
beauty  of  the  Empress. 

The  exceeding  charm  and  beauty  of  the  Empress  was 
never  more  seen  to  advantage  than  in  one  of  her  country 
homes,  where  she  felt  more  at  her  ease  than  in  Paris.  She 
used  to  ask  privileged  persons  among  her  guests  to  drink 
tea  with  her  in  the  afternoon.  On  these  occasions  she  appeared 
at  her  best,  talking  on  every  subject,  and  discussing  all  the 
new  books.  She  rather  prided  herself  on  being  what  French 
people  call  "  un  bel  esprit,"  and  of  caring  for  literature ;  she 
considered  it  a  part  of  her  duty  ostensibly  to  interest  herself 
in  the  literary  and  scientific  movements  of  the  day.  She  liked 
to  make  herself  popular  among  writers  and  artists,  of  whom 
there  was  generally  a  good  sprinkling  at  Compiegne.  Among 
her  favourites  were  Octave  Feuillet,  Merimee,  and  Carpeaux. 
More  than  once  Carpeaux  implored  her  to  allow  him  to  carve 

26 


Fontainebleau  and  Compiegne 

her  bust,  to  which,  however,  she  would  not  agree.  Merimee 
had  been  a  friend  of  her  mother's,  the  Countess  de  Monti  jo, 
and  had  known  her  as  a  little  girl ;  indeed,  people  whispered 
softly  that  he  had  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  her  elevation 
to  the  throne,  having  admirably  advised  her  at  that  critical 
period  of  her  existence  when  first  she  became  the  object  of 
Napoleon's  adoration. 

Merimee  was  a  charming  man  in  spite  of  his  misanthropic 
tendencies  and  his  fits  of  bad  temper,  which  caused  him 
sometimes  to  say  the  rudest  things  imaginable,  but  which 
in  reality  he  did  not  mean  at  all.  He  was,  however,  a  privileged 
person,  being  customarily  forgiven  words  which  would  not  have 
been  tolerated  in  anyone  else.  He  was,  perhaps,  amidst  the 
crowd  which  congregated  in  the  vast  halls  and  galleries  of  Com- 
piegne, the  one  who  judged  most  clearly  what  was  going 
on  around  him,  and  I  remember  that  one  evening,  when  we 
were  discussing  the  political  situation,  he  suddenly  asked 
me  :  "  Et  vous  croyez  que  cela  durera  ?  "  ("  And  you  think 
that  all  this  will  last  ?  ")  Noticing  my  surprise,  he  did  me  the 
honour  of  a  lengthy  explanation  :  "  You  see,  my  friend,  here 
in  this  beautiful  France  of  ours  we  never  look  beyond  the 
present  day ;  we  enjoy  ourselves  without  any  thought  of  what 
the  morrow  may  bring.  We  have  seen  so  many  changes, 
so  many  revolutions,  that  we  have  entirely  lost  the  feeling  of 
stability,  without  which  no  nation  can  achieve  really  great 
things.  In  politics  one  must  have  either  stability,  faith  in 
the  principles  which  one  is  called  upon  to  defend,  or  else 
enthusiasm  like  that  felt  by  our  troops  at  Marengo.  Now  can 
you  imagine  a  spirit  of  enthusiasm  for  our  master  here  ?  " 
And  he  winked  in  the  direction  of  the  Emperor's  private  apart- 
ments. "He  is  good,  and  kind,  and  wreak,  but  though  the 
nation  and  the  army  shout  '  Vive  PEmpereur '  when  they  see 
him,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  they  would  sacrifice  anything 

27 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

beyond  the  interests  of  their  neighbours  for  him.  And  the 
Empress,  she  is  as  much  to  be  pitied  as  she  is  to  be  envied. 
I  am  sorry  to  have  to  say  so,  because  I  am  really  attached  to 
her,  but  what  can  one  do  !  She  does  not  realise  that  she  is 
not  by  birth  the  equal  of  the  other  Queens  of  Europe,  and  there 
lies  her  great  mistake.  She  is  so  beautiful  that  one  would 
have  worshipped  at  once  Mademoiselle  de  Montijo,  but  the 
nation  could  not  bring  itself  to  respect  the  Comtesse  de  Teba 
in  the  same  way  as  had  she  been  a  Princess  born.  Now, 
don't  betray  me,  please,"  he  added,  "  but  I  know  that  you 
are  discreet,  and,  besides,  who  minds  the  sayings  of  that 
old  grumbler  Merime'e  !  " 

This  bouiade  left  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind  at  the 
time  I  heard  it ;  it  resounded  like  the  "  Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin  " 
of  the  Empire,  uttered  as  it  was  by  a  man  who  was  well  known 
to  have  personally  a  great  and  sincere  devotion  for  the  fair 
Spaniard  whom  he  had  helped  to  place  on  the  throne  of 
France.  Poor  Merimee  was  not  destined  to  survive  the  fall 
of  that  Imperial  regime  of  which  he  had  been  one  of  the 
strongest  supporters.  He  died  broken-hearted  a  few  days 
after  the  disaster  of  Sedan,  writing  pathetically  to  one  of  his 
friends  just  before  his  end  :  "I  have  tried  all  my  life  to  fight 
against  prejudices,  and  to  be  a  citizen  of  the  world  before 
being  a  Frenchman.  But  all  these  cloaks  of  philosophy 
are  now  of  no  avail  to  me.  I  bleed  to-day  of  the  same 
wounds  as  these  idiots  of  Frenchmen,  and  I  weep  over  their 
humiliation." 

Octave  Feuillet  was  a  great  favourite  of  the  Empress.  He 
was  a  charming  man,  but  always  ill  and  always  preoccupied 
with  nursing  his  health,  and  his  malade  imaginaire.  His 
novels  were  undoubtedly  pretty,  and  created  a  great  sensation 
at  the  time.  He  was  the  fashionable  novelist  of  his  genera- 
tion, and  certainly  some  of  his  works  deserve  to  pass  to  posterity 


Fontainebleau  and  Compiegne 

because  of  their  fine  observation.  He  was  middle-class  to 
the  core,  and  this  made  him  worship  everything  that  seemed 
to  be  above  him.  He  took  himself  far  too  much  in  earnest, 
and  even  carried  so  far  his  appreciation  of  his  own  merit 
that  he  wrote  once  or  twice  to  the  Emperor,  proffering  un- 
sought his  advice  in  political  matters.  Napoleon  III.  was  far 
too  kind  to  rebuff  him,  and  sometimes  even  replied  to  him, 
flattering  his  vanity,  as  he  was  accustomed  to  flatter  writers 
and  journalists,  in  whom  he  saw  the  manufacturers  of  public 
opinion,  and  whom  he  liked  to  conciliate  as  far  as  possible. 
Octave  Feuillet  professed  a  great  admiration  for  the  Empress, 
and  he  must  be  given  his  due — he  remained  faithful  to  her  after 
her  fall.  He  was  one  of  the  few  who  went  to  Chislehurst  to 
present  their  respects  to  the  exiled  and  dethroned  Sovereigns. 

In  violent  contrast  to  his  behaviour  can  be  instanced  that 
of  the  architect  Viollet-le-Duc,  who,  after  having  been  loaded 
with  money  and  kindnesses  by  the  Emperor  and  his  Consort, 
turned  his  back  upon  them  after  the  fall  of  the  Empire,  and 
even  tried  to  make  excuses  for  ever  having  known  them. 
Unfortunately,  he  was  but  one  of  many,  and  bitter  must 
have  been  the  thoughts  of  Napoleon  III.  and  Eugenie  when 
they  saw  that  all  the  good  they  had  done,  the  boundless 
generosity  they  had  exercised,  had  only  made  them  a  few 
more  enemies  among  the  ranks  of  those  who  owed  them  so 
much. 

Carpeaux,  in  spite  of  his  rudeness,  was  very  much  appre- 
ciated at  Compiegne,  and  I  often  saw  him  there,  as  indeed  I 
met  also  most  of  the  illustrious  Frenchmen  the  Empire  could 
boast  of  at  that  time.  These  celebrities,  and  the  number  of 
pretty  women  who  were  also  invited,  made  the  gatherings 
unique.  The  members  of  the  fair  sex  who  were  nearly  always 
present  were  the  Princess  Metternich,  the  pretty  Comtesse 
Melanie  de  Pourtales,  the  Marquise  de  Galliffet,  then  separated 

29 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

from  her  husband,  who  had  already  struck  up  that  strange 
friendship  with  the  Princesse  de  Sagan,  nee  Seilleres,  which 
gave  rise  to  so  much  talk  later  on.  Mme.  de  Galliffet  was  one 
of  the  loveliest  women  of  the  Imperial  Court,  and  certainly 
the  one  who  knew  the  best  how  to  dress.  She  was  an  elegante 
before  everything  else,  and  I  believe  cared  even  more  for  her 
dresses  than  for  her  lovers.  Her  relations  with  General  Galliffet 
were  most  strange.  They  used  to  meet  sometimes  in  society, 
and  he  was  always  most  polite  towards  her ;  it  was  even 
said  that  the  warmest  admirer  the  Marquise  de  Galliffet  had 
ever  had  was  her  husband.  This  did  not  prevent  them  never 
agreeing  upon  any  subject  save  one,  and  that,  it  was  rumoured, 
reunited  them  sometimes,  not  under  the  same  roof,  but  under 
the  same  tent,  as  the  Marquise  de  Caux  once  said  with  more 
wit  than  kindness. 

Another  habitue  of  Compi^gne  was  the  Baronne  de  Poilly. 
She  was  a  daring  horsewoman,  an  eccentric  character,  full 
of  brusquerie  and  kindness,  but  not  liked,  and  very  much  talked 
about.  She  was,  with  the  Comtesse  de  Beaulaincourt,  ex- 
Marquise  de  Contades,  one  of  the  most  dreaded  persons  in 
the  whole  of  Paris  society. 

Speaking  of  Madame  de  Beaulaincourt  reminds  me  of  various 
episodes  in  that  lady's  career,  which  set  me  wondering  how 
the  strict  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  as  well  as  the  frivolous  society 
of  the  Second  Empire,  could  have  taken  her  to  their  hearts  in 
the  way  they  did.  She  was  bad  for  badness'  sake,  as  unsparing 
in  her  words  as  in  her  judgments  ;  always  on  the  look  out  for 
something  evil  to  do,  or  something  unpleasant  to  say.  Full 
of  wit  with  it  all,  this  last  circumstance  only  made  her  the 
more  dangerous.  She  was  a  rare  example  of  a  vicious  woman 
who  had  no  charitable  instincts  ;  it  seemed  as  if 'she  condemned 
others  the  more  bitterly  because  she  knew  that  there  was 
needing  much  pardon  in  herself.  Nevertheless,  Madame  de 

30 


Fontainebleau  and  Gompidgne 

Beaulaincourt  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  personalities 
at  the  Court  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III.,  and  as  such  she 
deserves  to  be  remembered. 

The  members  of  the  Cabinet  and  their  wives  were  generally 
asked  to  Compiegne  in  turn.  At  Fontainebleau,  where  the 
Court  used  to  spend  the  summer  months,  this  was  rarely 
the  case.  St.  Cloud  was  too  near  Paris  to  be  really  pleasant 
as  a  summer  residence.  Fontainebleau  was  quite  in  the 
country,  and  its  lovely  forest  afforded  many  opportunities 
for  riding,  driving,  or  hunting,  which  appealed  to  Eugenie's 
tastes.  There  she  used  to  live  a  family  life  free  from  the  re- 
straints of  the  Court,  with  the  guests  whom  she  asked  to  share 
her  villegiature.  At  Fontainebleau,  too,  the  Emperor,  always 
a  great  stickler  for  etiquette,  allowed  it  to  be  relaxed,  consider- 
ing his  stay  there  as  a  kind  of  holiday.  He  was  more  often 
in  the  company  of  his  guests  than  at  Compiegne,  and  his 
presence  was  very  much  appreciated.  When  he  liked,  Napoleon 
III.  could  be  a  charming  man  and  an  interesting  talker,  but 
it  was  not  often  that  he  allowed  himself  to  become  expansive. 

Life  at  Fontainebleau  as  well  as  at  Compiegne  was  almost 
uniform  in  its  round  of  gaieties.  The  company  assembled  for 
breakfast  at  noon,  after  which  the  guests  followed  their  own 
inclinations  during  the  afternoon.  A  few  privileged  ones, 
however,  were  asked  to  drive  or  walk  with  the  Empress,  and 
afterwards  to  have  tea  with  her.  All  guests  enjoyed  perfect 
liberty,  but  this  did  not  prevent  them  from  watching  their 
neighbours  to  find  out  their  little  weaknesses,  for  gossip 
was  rife  both  at  Compiegne  and  at  Fontainebleau,  and  many 
unpleasant  rumours  concerning  the  Emperor  and  the  Empress 
were  started  there.  The  manners  and  customs  that  prevailed 
among  the  recipients  of  the  Imperial  hospitality  were  publicly 
criticised,  the  feeling  being  that  it  would  certainly  have  been 
better  had  more  discrimination  been  exercised.  There  was 

31 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

little  dignity  though  much  ceremony  during  these  "  series," 
as  they  used  to  be  called,  and  the  extreme  liberty  granted  was 
the  source  of  all  kinds  of  unmerited  rumours  concerning  what 
happened  in  those  vast  halls.  Somehow  it  savoured  of  dese- 
cration to  see  the  gay  company  of  careless  men  and  fashionable 
women  who  thronged  Fontainebleau  without  giving  a  thought 
to  the  great  events  which  its  walls  had  witnessed. 

One  evening  at  Fontainebleau,  after  the  rest  of  the  world 
had  retired,  I   was  returning  late  to  my  bedroom  from  an 
enjoyable  stroll  in  the  lovely  park.     There  was  a  beautiful 
moon,  and  it  lit  up  the  old  castle  of  Fra^ois  I.,  with  its  many 
turrets,  its  old  gables,  its  whole  aspect  speaking  of  the  grandeur 
of  many  ages.     I  thought  myself  the  only  one  to  indulge  in 
such  an  eccentricity,  when  suddenly  I  came  face  to  face  with 
the  Chevalier  Nigra,  then  one  of  the  great  admirers  of  the 
Empress,  and  a  general  favourite  both  at  Court  and  in  Society. 
Chevalier   Nigra   had   been   the   private   secretary   of   Count 
de  Cavour,  and  was  considered  one  of  the  stars  of  Italian 
diplomacy.     He  professed  the  greatest  devotion  for  Eugenie, 
knew  exactly  how  to  flatter  her  and  thus  to  glean  information 
as  to  what  was  going  on  in  the  French  Cabinet.     More  clever 
than  lovely  Madame  de  Castiglione,  who  thought  that  one  of 
her   glances  was  sufficient  to  keep  the  Emperor  enchained 
to  her  chariot,  Nigra  did  not  attempt  to  play  the  lover,  but 
rather  the  worshipper  of  the  Empress,  whom  he  used  to  tell 
he  had  set  upon  a  shrine  whence  he  hoped  she  would  condescend 
from  time  to  time  to  smile  upon  him.     He  had  all  the  subtlety 
of  the  Italian,  and  had  read,  and,  what  is  better,  thoroughly 
digested  and  understood,  the  philosophy  expressed  by  Machia- 
velli  in  his  works.     He  was  an  ardent  patriot,  and  when  he 
accepted  the   appointment   to   Paris  it    was   with   the   firm 
intention  of  using  his  best  endeavours  to  bring  about  the 
completion  and  recognition  of  Italian  unity. 

32 


Fontainebleau  and  Compiegne 

Nigra  was  an  extremely  pleasant  man,  with  a  sufficient 
tincture  of  cynicism  to  make  him  amiable  without  being 
aggressive.  He  rarely  spoke  the  truth,  and  never  said  what 
he  thought ;  but  he  had  the  talent  of  convincing  people  of 
his  entire  sincerity.  A  keen  observer,  he  had  judged  better 
than  any  of  his  colleagues  the  frailty  of  the  Imperial  regime, 
and  was  only  watching  for  the  moment  when  the  house  of 
cards  should  collapse.  On  the  evening  I  am  referring  to  he 
was  smoking  a  big  cigar  and  walking  slowly  in  the  flower- 
garden  which  stretched  in  front  of  the  private  apartments 
of  the  palace,  enjoying  the  scent  of  the  roses,  and  from  time 
to  time  raising  his  eyes  towards  the  only  row  of  windows 
still  showing  a  light  amidst  the  darkness  that  enveloped  the 
venerable  pile. 

When  he  saw  me,  he  pointed  upwards  with  his  finger  to 
these  windows,  saying  at  the  same  time  : 

"  She  is  not  sleeping ;  she  is  always  the  last  one  to  go  to 
rest." 

"  I  wonder  what  she  is  doing  so  late,"  I  replied. 

'  Thinking  about  her  dresses,  or  the  last  sermon  she  has 
listened  to,"  was  the  remark  of  Nigra.  "  How  little  the  Empress 
understands  her  situation." 

"  She  gathers  her  roses  whilst  she  can,"  was  my  reply 4 

'  Yes,"  retorted  the  Italian  diplomatist,  "  and  perhaps 
she  does  the  best  thing  under  the  circumstances ;  all  this 
cannot  last." 

'  You  do  not  believe  in  the  durability  of  the  Empire  ?  " 
I  asked  him. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  do  not  believe  in  it  at  all. 
The  Italian  question  will  overthrow  it  sooner  than  one  thinks." 

'  You  do  not  admit  the  possibility  of  a  war  between 
Italy  and  France  on  the  subject  of  the  integrity  of  the  Holy 
See  ?  "  I  inquired. 

D  33 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

"  Certainly  I  don't,"  said  Nigra,  "  but  I  know  one  thing ; 
the  Emperor  has  no  likelihood  of  keeping  his  crown,  or  of 
passing  it  to  his  son,  unless  he  makes  up  his  mind  to  fulfil 
the  promises  which  he  gave,  perhaps  in  an  unguarded  moment, 
and  without  thinking  of  the  consequences,  but  which  he  gave 
all  the  same.  This  hesitation  of  his  has  not  only  entirely 
destroyed  his  popularity  in  Italy,  but  it  has  also  thrown 
Italian  politicians  into  the  arms  of  his  foes.  You  see,  we  cannot 
prevent  the  natural  course  of  events  taking  place ;  the 
supremacy  of  the  Pope  has  had  its  day,  and  the  Bourbons 
also  have  achieved  their  destiny.  Italy,  if  she  is  to  be  re- 
generated, can  only  be  so  under  the  sway  of  an  Italian  dynasty. 
The  Bourbons  are  not  Italians  ;  they  are  French,  with  a  large 
admixture  of  Austrian  blood,  and  their  temperament  is  dis- 
tinctly hostile  to  that  of  the  Italian  people.  The  House  of 
Savoy,  on  the  other  hand,  has  everything  that  appeals  to  the 
mind  and  to  the  imagination  of  my  country ;  it  will  welcome 
Victor  Emmanuel  with  joy  wherever  he  may  appear.  You 
must  not  forget,  either,  a  thing  of  which  people  generally 
lose  sight :  Italians  are  superstitious ;  they  are  not  at  all 
religious,  and  they  more  or  less  look  upon  the  Pope  in  the 
same  light  as  they  do  the  small  princes  and  dukes  who  have 
ruled  them  for  so  long.  Temporal  Power  has  far  more  prestige 
abroad  than  is  the  case  with  us,  and  Italians  will  only  feel 
wrathful  against  those  who  may  try  to  force  it  upon  them. 
The  people  of  Italy  instinctively  guess  that  the  Emperor  is 
afraid  to  go  against  the  popular  feeling  in  France,  and  that 
he  will  at  a  given  moment  refuse  to  help  their  ambitions  if 
he  finds  that  they  clash  with  his  own  personal  interests.  That 
is  where  he  makes  his  mistake,"  continued  Nigra,  who  had 
become  excited,  a  rare  thing  with  him  ;  "  that  is  where  he 
makes  his  mistake.  If  he  upheld  our  national  ambitions  he 
would  find  us  at  his  side  when  his  hour  of  peril  will  strike, 

34 


Fontainebleau  and  Comptegne 

whereas  now  we  shall  merely  look  on  and  do  what  he  did 
in  1859 — ^see^  our  own  advantage,  heedless  of  the  danger  in 
which  he  may  find  himself  placed." 

I  looked  at  him  attentively. 

"  So  you  believe  that  this  hour  of  danger  is  fast  approach- 
ing ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Of  course  it  is,"  was  the  reply ;  "  its  warning  rang  long 
ago,  after  Sadowa,  and  when  the  bullets  of  Juarez  struck 
the  breast  of  Maximilian  at  Queretaro.  It  is  only  blind 
people,  blinded  by  vanity,  like  those  who  are  in  power  here, 
who  do  not  see  the  menace  that  the  armaments  of  Prussia 
constitute  for  the  whole  of  Europe." 

"  You  do  not  believe  in  the  readiness  of  the  French  army 
in  case  of  a  war  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Do  you  ?  "    retorted  Nigra. 

I  remained  silent. 

"  No,  I  do  not  believe  in  it,"  he  went  on  slowly,  "  the 
army  is  not  capable  of  strong  resistance  to  a  well  disciplined 
foe.  How  can  an  army  be  so  in  a  country  where  politics 
are  paramount  ?  You  see  there  is  no  real  patriotism  in  France, 
there  is  only  chauvinism,  and  that  is  not  quite  the  same  thing. 
The  Frenchman  will  not  admit  that  he  can  be  conquered  by 
anyone.  Why,  we  have  seen  it  at  Solferino,  where  our  troops 
fought  desperately,  and  were  not  even  thanked  by  the  Em- 
peror, whose  soldiers  could  never  have  held  out  alone  against 
the  shock  of  the  Austrian  regiments.  When  we  came  up  and 
decided  the  fate  of  the  battle  they  were  already  giving  way. 
You  must  not  forget  one  thing,  the  French  soldier  gets  dis- 
couraged at  his  first  reverse,  and  most  certainly  the  fate  of 
the  next  campaign  will  be  decided  in  its  very  first  days. 

'  The  Emperor  also  is  no  longer  what  he  once  was,"  went 
on  Nigra ;  "he  is  ill,  broken  down,  either  by  disease  or  by 
worry,  he  has  lost  very  much  of  his  former  elasticity,  and 

35 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

is  more  than  ever  undecided  in  the  resolutions  he  is  called 
upon  to  make.  The  Empress,  on  the  other  hand,  believes 
herself  to  possess  political  ability,  and  is  encouraged  therein 
by  people  who  see  a  source  of  advantage  for  them  in  a  Regency 
over  which  she  would  be  called  upon  to  preside.  The  death  of 
the  Emperor,  which  ten  years  ago  would  have  been  regarded 
in  the  light  of  a  calamity,  not  only  for  France  but  for  Europe, 
is  no  longer  dreaded,  because  the  feeling  is  that  he  has  survived 
himself,  that  his  lucky  star  has  left  him.  The  convinced 
Bonapartists  think  that  a  Liberal  Empire  is  an  anachronism ; 
but  the  Emperor,  who  was  always  more  or  less  a  conspirator, 
dreams,  on  the  contrary,  of  establishing  his  dynasty  on  new 
lines,  in  which  his  strong  sympathies  towards  Liberalism  will 
take  the  upper  hand.  When  once  his  entourage  realise  this 
fact,  which  so  far  they  do  not  yet  suspect,  they  will  do  their 
best  to  bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  and  by  means  of  a  foreign 
war  divert  Napoleon's  mind  from  his  present  intentions. 
And  that  war " 

He  stopped  and  looked  at  me  significantly. 

"  That  war  won't  find  Italy  the  ally  of  France,"  I  remarked. 

"  Certainly  not,  because  there  would  be  no  necessity  for 
it.  Why  should  we  lose  either  men  or  money  when  nothing 
could  be  gained  by  it  ?  What  we  want  is  Rome,  and  Rome 
we  shall  get  all  the  same,  whether  Napoleon  allows  it  or  not. 
One  cannot  stop  the  evolution  of  history." 

"  But  she — what  will  she  do  ?  "  I  asked,  pointing  up  to 
the  windows  we  had  been  looking  at  a  few  moments  before, 
when,  as  if  in  reply  to  my  question,  the  light  suddenly 
went  out. 

Nigra  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  if  this  matter  did  not 
concern  him  at  all. 

"  She  will  never  resign  herself  to  her  fall,  should  such  a 
thing  occur,"  I  remarked. 

36 


Fontainebleau  and  Gompiegne 

"  Oh  yes,  she  will  do  so,"  was  the  answer.  "  She  will  not 
even  attempt  to  fight  against  her  fate  should  it  prove  inimical 
to  her,"  he  concluded  philosophically. 

It  was  during  the  last  time  the  Imperial  Court  was  at 
Fontainebleau  that  this  remarkable  conversation  took  place, 
and  it  impressed  me  so  much  that  I  noted  it  down  at  once 
when  I  reached  my  room.  I  was  to  think  about  it  more  than 
once  subsequently,  and  many  years  later,  meeting  Count  Nigra, 
as  he  had  become  then,  in  St.  Petersburg,  where  he  had  been 
appointed  Italian  Ambassador,  I  reminded  him  of  it,  and  asked 
him  to  tell  me  what  had  really  been  the  conduct  of  the  Empress 
Eugenie  on  that  fateful  4th  of  September  when  he  and  Prince 
Metternich  urged  her  to  fly  before  the  revolutionaries. 

"  She  did  exactly  what  I  told  you  that  night  at  Fontaine- 
bleau," replied  Nigra;  "she  declared  that  she  would  not  go 
against  the  wishes  of  the  country,  and  that,  since  it  wanted 
her  to  leave  Paris,  she  would  do  so.  Mind,  she  knew  nothing 
as  to  whether  this  was  true  or  not ;  no  one  had  told  her  that 
the  country  wanted  her  to  go,  one  had  simply  drawn  her 
attention  to  the  fact  that  her  life  was  in  danger,  and  she 
believed  it  at  once.  Metternich  at  one  moment  asked  her 
whether  she  would  not  take  a  few  things  with  her,  but  she 
replied  that  it  was  not  necessary,  and  she  left  the  Tuileries 
without  even  taking  a  pocket  handkerchief." 


37 


CHAPTER   IV 

POLITICAL  MEN  OF  THE  TIME 

I  BECAME  very  well  acquainted  with  both  M.  Rouher  and 
M.  Emile  Ollivier.  The  latter  inspired  me  with  warm  feelings 
of  friendship.  He  was  essentially  an  honest  man,  and  his 
mistakes  were  more  the  faults  of  others  than  his  own.  He 
never  had  the  opportunity  really  to  show  of  what  stuff  he 
was  made.  Though  possessed  of  the  best  intentions  in  the 
world,  he  was  always  misunderstood  and  suspected,  even  by 
the  very  people  who  should  have  had  confidence  in  him 
and  in  his  sense  of  justice  and  impartiality. 

When  he  was  called  upon  to  form  a  Cabinet  he  was  met 
by  the  antagonism  of  the  Empress,  who  did  not  approve  of 
the  new  trend  in  politics,  which  had  replaced  the  one  in- 
augurated at  the  coup  d'etat.  She  hated  the  idea  of  the 
slightest  diminution  in  the  Imperial  power  and  prestige. 
She  did  not  believe  in  the  necessity  of  concessions  to  public 
opinion,  and  she  was  deeply  incensed  to  find  that  her  ideas 
on  the  subject  were  not  shared  by  her  husband,  who  was  more 
or  less  under  the  influence  of  his  new  Prime  Minister.  Eugenie, 
who  was  superstitious,  declared  to  her  friends  that  she  had 
the  feeling  when  she  spoke  with  Emile  Ollivier  that  he  was 
going  to  be  fatal  to  her. 

The  fact  is  that  fate  went  against  the  new  Prime  Minister. 
M.  Ollivier  had  hardly  been  in  power  when  occurred  an  event 
almost  forgotten  to-day,  but  which  was  to  sound  the  first 

38 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

knell  of  the  Empire.  Prince  Pierre  Bonaparte  shot  Victor 
Noir. 

Till  that  fatal  day  very  few  people  knew  anything  about 
Prince  Pierre.  He  was  a  distant  cousin  of  the  Emperor, 
with  whom  his  relations  had  never  been  either  affectionate 
or  even  friendly.  He  was  the  black  sheep  of  a  family  which 
at  that  time  could  ill  afford  a  setback,  and  his  political 
opinions,  coupled  with  an  irregular  connection  with  a  person 
belonging  to  an  inferior  class,  and  whom  he  was  ultimately 
to  make  his  wife,  had  led  to  his  disgrace  by  the  head  of  his 
house.  Napoleon  III.  ignored  the  existence  of  this  incon- 
venient kinsman,  who  lived  in  a  little  house  at  Auteuil. 

Prince  Pierre  was  a  true  Corsican  in  character :  violent, 
and  given  to  strong  fits  of  passion.  He  professed,  together 
with  most  Radical  political  opinions  and  strong  Republican 
sympathies,  an  immense  worship  for  the  memory  of  his  great 
ancestor,  the  first  Napoleon,  and  a  great  respect  for  the  family 
traditions  of  the  Bonapartes.  And  when  one  day,  in  a  small 
newspaper  edited  at  Bastia,  he  chanced  across  a  very  vile 
attack  on  the  family,  he  got  into  a  rage,  and  replied  to  it 
in  the  same  paper  by  an  equally  virulent  attack  directed 
against  the  author. 

The  matter  did  not  end  there,  for  very  soon  the  Parisian 
press  took  part,  and  the  occasion  was  used  by  the  enemies 
of  the  Imperial  regime  in  order  to  air  their  grievances  against 
it.  At  last  one  of  the  editors  of  an  opposition  paper  called 
La  Revanche,  M.  Paschal  Grousset,  who  later  on  was  to  acquire 
a  sorry  celebrity  during  the  excesses  of  the  Commune,  sent 
two  of  his  friends  to  Prince  Pierre,  to  request  him  either  to 
apologise  in  person  or  else  to  fight. 

What  happened  during  the  interview  no  one  will  ever 
know.  The  versions  given  by  the  Prince  and  that  of  M. 
Ulric  de  Fonville,  who  together  with  Victor  Noir  had  called 

39 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

at  Auteuil  at  the  request  of  Paschal  Grousset,  differ  entirely 
as  to  what  passed.  The  result,  however,  was  the  murder 
of  Noir  by  the  cousin  of  Napoleon  III. 

This  event,  occurring  as  it  did  at  a  moment  when  the 
Empire  was  being  attacked  on  all  sides  and  already  tottering, 
added  considerably  to  the  difficulties  under  which  the  Emperor 
was  labouring.  Unfortunately,  neither  he  nor  his  responsible 
advisers  calculated  its  consequences.  Instead  of  following 
the  advice  given  by  M.  Rouher,  who  was  of  opinion  that 
Prince  Pierre  should  have  been  imprisoned  in  a  fortress  until 
his  crime  had  been  forgotten  by  the  public,  Napoleon  III. 
decided  to  have  his  cousin  tried  by  a  special  court  which 
assembled  at  Tours.  The  court  acquitted  the  accused,  which 
only  added  to  the  general  exasperation  against  the  govern- 
ment. M.  Ollivier  was  reproached  with  having  lent  himself 
to  a  travesty  of  justice,  in  order  to  shield  a  relative  of  the 
Sovereign  from  a  justly  deserved  punishment,  and  was  accused 
by  his  former  friends  and  followers  of  allowing  himself  to  fall 
under  the  influence  of  the  Court. 

This  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  that  sincere  politician, 
and  the  bitterness  which  resulted  on  both  sides  made  the 
head  of  the  Cabinet  lose  that  calmness  which,  more  than 
anyone  else,  he  required  in  the  difficult  task  that  lay  before 
him. 

As  to  Prince  Pierre,  the  cause  of  all  this  perturbation, 
he  left  France  after  his  acquittal,  settled  in  Brussels,  and 
after  the  fall  of  the  Empire  married  the  mother  of  his  children, 
and  spent  his  life  in  comparative  poverty  until  the  marriage 
of  his  son  Roland  Bonaparte  with  the  youngest  daughter 
of  the  celebrated  Blanc,  of  Monaco  fame,  which  brought 
back  financial  prosperity  to  that  branch  of  the  family.  He 
did  not  enjoy  it  long,  because  he  died  a  few  months  later, 
and  was  followed  very  quickly  to  the  grave  by  his  young 

40 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

daughter-in-law.  His  widow,  the  washerwoman  whose  intro- 
duction into  his  family  Napoleon  III.  had  deeply  resented, 
went  on  living  with  her  son  Roland,  devoting  herself  to  him 
and  to  his  baby  daughter.  She  never  could  learn  what  manners 
were,  but  she  was  kind-hearted  in  spite  of  her  vulgarity,  and 
did  good  in  every  way  she  could.  Prince  Roland,  on  his  side, 
had  the  tact  never  to  be  ashamed  of  the  humble  origin  of  his 
mother,  to  surround  her  always  with  the  greatest  respect, 
and  to  treat  her  with  the  most  tender  affection.  She  did  the 
honours  of  his  house  as  well  as  she  could,  and  unfortunately 
for  her,  died  before  the  marriage  of  her  granddaughter,  the 
Princess  Marie  Bonaparte,  with  Prince  George  of  Greece,  an 
event  which,  had  she  only  lived  long  enough  to  witness  it, 
would  have  proved  the  supreme  happiness  of  her  life. 

This  digression  has  led  me  far  away  from  M.  Emile  Ollivier. 
I  had  the  opportunity  to  see  him  on  the  day  following  the 
acquittal  of  Prince  Pierre  Bonaparte,  and  was  surprised  to 
find  him  considerably  irritated  against  M.  Rouher,  whom  he 
accused  of  trying  to  influence  the  Emperor  in  a  direction 
contrary  to  the  resolutions  which  the  Sovereign  had  taken 
in  conjunction  with  Ollivier  himself.  He  seemed  as  if  he  wanted 
to  find  someone  on  whom  he  might  vent  his  anger  at  his 
own  mistakes.  A  phrase  which  he  uttered  on  that  day,  but 
to  which  I  did  not  pay  any  attention  at  the  moment,  struck 
me  later  on  as  the  expression  of  a  desire  to  regain  a  popularity 
he  had  lost : 

"  II  nous  faut  maintenant  a  tout  prix  regagner  notre 
popularite "  ("  We  must  now  at  all  costs  win  back  our 
popularity  "). 

It  was  immediately  after  these  troubled  days  that  the 
important  question  of  the  Plebiscite  was  raised.  It  was 
violently  opposed  by  M.  Thiers  and  his  followers,  and  also 
by  several  of  the  Emperor's  personal  friends,  who  dreaded 

41 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

what  it  might  mean  to  him.  Even  when  its  result  ratified  the 
country's  confidence  in  the  Empire  and  in  the  Emperor, 
they  were  not  inspired  with  any  greater  confidence  in  the 
future.  I  remember  that  at  a  dinner  which  took  place  at 
the  house  of  Marshal  Canrobert  and  at  which  I  was  present, 
M.  Rouher,  who  was  among  the  guests,  remarked  sadly  that 
there  was  nothing  to  be  so  very  proud  of  in  the  results  of 
the  Plebiscite,  because  Paris  had  proved  by  its  vote  that  it 
was  distinctly  hostile  to  the  Government.  "  Et  c'est  Paris 
qui  fait  les  revolutions  et  renverse  les  gouvernements " 
("And  it  is  Paris  which  makes  revolutions  and  upsets 
governments"),  he  concluded  with  a  sigh. 

Without  being  on  intimate  terms  with  him,  I  liked  M.  Rouher 
exceedingly.  For  one  thing,  he  was  really  the  Emperor's 
friend,  and  for  another,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  he  was  a 
statesman.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  he  was  ambitious  and 
liked  power  for  power's  sake.  He  did  not  care  so  much  for  the 
welfare  of  France  as  he  did  for  that  of  the  Bonaparte  dynasty, 
but  he  had  a  clear  apprehension  of  all  the  political  necessities 
of  the  moment,  and  saw  farther  than  those  who  were 
listened  to  with  greater  attention  than  himself.  He  did  not 
perhaps  like  the  Empress  very  much,  but  he  remained  faithful 
to  her,  and  out  of  respect  for  the  place  which  she  occupied 
and  the  crown  which  she  wore,  always  tried  to  uphold  her 
prestige.  He  loved  Napoleon  III.  truly  and  sincerely,  and 
always  gave  him  disinterested  advice.  Like  all  strong  men 
he  had  enemies,  and  like  all  sincere  people  he  was  accused  of 
dissimulation  and  intrigue  by  those  who  did  not  understand 
that  to  tell  the  truth  is  sometimes  the  best  way  not  to  be 
believed. 

He  has  been  accused  of  having  gathered  immense  riches 
whilst  he  was  in  power.  I  can  testify  that  this  has  not  been 
the  case  by  far,  and  that  when  the  "  Second  Emperor,"  as 

42 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

he  was  sometimes  called,  died,  he  was  comparatively  a  poor 
man. 

Socially,  M.  Rouher  was  charming,  and  his  conversation 
was  most  enjoyable.  He  had  what  French  people  call  "le 
mot  pour  rire,"  as  well  as  a  marvellous  skill  for  parrying  ques- 
tions addressed  to  him,  and  replying  without  answering  any- 
thing. He  had  dignity,  and  gave  constant  proofs  of  it  in 
his  presidency  of  the  Senate,  where  he  displayed  the  rarest 
qualities  of  tact  and  skill. 

Talking  of  tact,  leads  me  to  say  a  few  words  respecting 
a  personage  who,  to  his  own  misfortune,  as  well  as  to  that  of 
other  people,  did  not  know  the  significance  of  that  word. 
It  is  of  Prince  Napoleon,  Prince  Plon  Plon,  as  the  Prussians 
called  him,  that  I  am  thinking. 

This  first  cousin  of  the  Emperor  was  certainly  a  remark- 
able personage,  and  undoubtedly  a  most  clever  man.  But 
evidently,  also,  a  bad  fairy  had  presided  at  his  birth,  and 
blighted  with  her  magic  wand  all  the  great  qualities  with  which 
nature  had  endowed  him.  His  was  essentially  a  restless  nature, 
incapable  of  contentment,  even  when  it  had  what  it  wanted. 
Had  he  been  Emperor  he  would  have  lived  in  opposition  to 
himself,  faute  de  mieux.  Of  ambition  he  had  a  lot ;  of  desires 
and  passions  even  more,  but  he  lacked  an  evenly  balanced 
mind,  and  that  most  essential  of  all  qualities,  submission  before 
accomplished  facts  and  the  things  that  human  will  cannot 
change.  His  intelligence  was  sharp,  bright,  and  clear ;  he 
was  capable  of  resolution,  and  had  initiative  in  his  character. 
He  was  gifted  with  rare  eloquence,  and,  possessing  also  an 
easy  pen,  wrote  pages  that  great  writers  would  have  felt 
proud  to  sign.  He  was  brilliant,  too,  in  conversation,  and 
to  all  these  talents  he  added  qualities  that,  joined  with  the 
prestige  of  his  name,  and  of  his  position,  might  have  called 
him  to  great  destinies,  could  he  but  have  learned  how  to 

43 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

use  them.  His  existence  was  essentially  one  aptly  described 
by  the  French  expression  "  une  vie  manquee,"  and  he  was  his 
own  worst  enemy.  Always  in  opposition  to  his  cousin  he 
succeeded  in  rousing  in  revolt  against  himself  not  only  the 
advisers  of  the  Crown,  but  also  the  Emperor,  and  especially 
the  Empress.  Eugenie,  with  whom  he  had  been  ardently 
in  love  when  she  was  still  Mademoiselle  de  Monti  jo,  was  the 
object  of  his  especial  animosity  later  on,  and  he  never  lost 
an  opportunity  of  displaying  it,  forgetting  even  that  she  was 
a  lady,  and  that  he  should  have  shown  himself  a  gentleman 
in  his  behaviour  towards  her.  Among  the  survivors  of  the 
time  none  will  have  forgotten  the  scandal  he  caused  at  Com- 
piegne  when  he  refused  to  propose  the  health  of  the  Empress 
on  the  day  of  St.  Eugenie,  when  the  Emperor  asked  him 
to  do  so.  On  that  occasion  as  on  many  others,  he  quite 
lost  sight  of  the  politeness  which  a  Sovereign  and  a 
woman  has  the  right  to  expect,  even  from  her  worst 
enemies. 

Prince  Napoleon  was  all  his  life  in  opposition  to  somebody 
or  something,  and  by  poetic  justice  before  his  death  he  was 
to  experience  the  sorrow  of  finding  his  own  son  oppose  him 
and  his  principles.  Deception  dogged  his  footsteps,  disappoint- 
ment seemed  to  pursue  him,  for  which  he  himself  was  partly 
responsible,  and  partly  the  victim  of  circumstances.  He  is 
more  to  be  pitied  than  anything  else.  His  life  seemed  to  be 
spent  in  seeing  withdrawn  from  his  lips  the  cup  that  a  wicked 
fairy  kept  presenting  to  him  in  order  to  tempt  him  with 
its  contents. 

A  good  many  of  Prince  Napoleon's  defects  proceeded 
from  a  spirit  of  bravado,  such  as  that  which  distinguished 
the  Italian  condottieri  of  old.  He  took  a  vicious  pleasure 
in  appearing  to  be  what  in  reality  he  was  not,  and  in  defying 
public  opinion,  as  in  the  case  of  his  famous  Good  Friday 

44 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

dinners,  when  he  asked  his  best  friends  to  help  him  to  eat 
ham  and  roast  beef  on  an  occasion  when  the  gayest  of  gay 
Parisians  would  not  have  dreamt  of  touching  anything  else 
but  fish.  His  unorthodoxy  was  more  affected  than  sincere, 
more  frequently  it  was  adopted  because  it  amused  him  to 
shock  people. 

His  wife,  the  virtuous  Princess  Clotilde  of  Savoy,  was 
a  saint  in  her  life  and  habits.  She  had  absolutely  no  bond 
of  sympathy  with  him,  and  made  him  always  feel  that  duty 
alone  kept  her  at  his  side.  She  had  great,  noble,  and  even 
grand  qualities,  but  her  disposition  was  neither  amiable, 
nor  sympathetic,  and  Prince  Napoleon  should  have  had  a 
wife  he  could  love,  rather  than  one  whom  he  could  only 
respect. 

When  he  died  alone  in  Rome,  within  a  stone's  throw 
from  the  palace  where  his  distinguished  relative,  Madame  Mere, 
had  ended  her  sad  existence,  and  within  sight  of  the  chapel 
where  rests  the  mortal  remains  of  the  Princess  Borghese, 
nee  Pauline  Bonaparte,  he  was  on  terms  of  intimate  friendship 
with  a  lady  well  known  in  Paris  society,  the  Marquise  de 

,  whose  salon  is  to  this  day  the  rendezvous  of  a  certain 

circle  of  people,  among  whom  may  be  seen  some  enjoying  a 
great  social  position,  and  about  which  I  shall  have  something 
more  to  say  later  on.  This  lady  was  passionately  attached 
to  Prince  Napoleon,  for  whom  she  had  sacrificed  a  good  deal. 
She  had  been  a  beautiful  woman,  gifted  with  a  splendid  voice, 
admired  by  many,  and  loved  by  not  a  few.  Her  devotion 
to  the  Prince  was  admirable,  but  her  presence  at  his  bedside 
robbed  his  last  hours  of  dignity. 

His  widow,  the  Princess  Clotilde,  retired  to  the  castle  of 
Moncalieri,  where  she,  too,  died  a  few  years  ago,  after  having 
seen  her  eldest  son,  Prince  Victor,  married  to  the  Princess 
Clementine  of  Belgium.  Her  youngest  boy,  Prince  Louis 

45 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Napoleon,  after  serving  for  several  years  in  the  ranks  of 
the  Russian  army,  lives  now  in  comparative  solitude,  at  the 
castle  of  Prangins  in  Switzerland,  having  inherited  the  fortune 
of  his  aunt,  the  Princess  Mathilde.  As  for  Princess  Clotilde's 
daughter,  the  Princess  Letitia  Bonaparte,  she  married,  under 
rather  singular  circumstances,  her  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Aosta, 
the  brother  of  King  Humbert  of  Italy.  When  I  use  the 
words  "  singular  circumstances,"  I  am  alluding  to  the 
popular  belief  that  the  Duke  had  no  particular  intention 
of  marrying  his  niece.  The  Princess  Letitia,  however, 
had  inherited  the  ardent  temperament  of  her  father,  Prince 
Napoleon.  The  Duke  died  shortly  after  the  marriage.  At 
present  the  widowed  Duchess  of  Aosta  spends  part  of  her 
time  in  Turin,  and  part  in  Paris,  where  she  has  an  apart- 
ment in  the  Hotel  de  Castiglione,  Rue  de  Rivoli,  and  enjoys 
herself  as  much  as  she  possibly  can,  being  a  general  favourite 
everywhere. 

After  the  Plebiscite,  it  was  generally  felt  that  some  changes 
in  the  Cabinet  of  M.  Emile  Ollivier  had  become  imperative, 
especially  as  its  principal  members,  M.  Buffet  and  M.  Daru, 
were  not  entirely  in  accord  with  M.  Ollivier,  being  more  or 
less  under  the  influence  of  Thiers,  who  had  been  a  resolute 
adversary  of  the  Plebiscite.  The  portfolio  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  becoming  vacant  owing  to  the  retirement  of  Comte 
Napoleon  Daru,  was  offered  to  the  Due  de  Gramont,  who 
accepted. 

The  Due  de  Gramont,  among  all  the  people  who  had 
rallied  to  the  Empire,  was  the  one  whose  adherence  had  caused 
the  most  pleasure  at  the  Tuileries.  He  had  been  the  favourite 
of  the  Duchess  d'Angouleme,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI. 
and  of  Marie  Antoinette,  and  had  inspired  such  a  deep  affection 
in  that  severe  Princess,  that  she  had  left  him  a  large  fortune, 
from  which  he  derived  an  income  of  about  one  million  francs. 

46 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

All  his  family  traditions  were  connected  with  those  of  the 
House  of  Bourbon,  and  one  would  have  thought  that  nothing 
could  have  made  him  swerve  from  his  allegiance  to  the  Comte 
de  Chambord.  When  he  forsook  his  former  masters,  and 
enlisted  among  the  followers  of  the  Napoleonic  dynasty,  there 
was  great  rejoicing  at  this  unhoped-for  and  unexpected 
defection,  and  great  bitterness  at  Frohsdorf.  The  Empress 
Eugenie  lavished  her  best  and  most  amiable  smiles  on  the 
descendant  of  the  famous  Corisande,  and  very  soon  the  Duke 
found  himself  the  cherished  guest  at  all  the  festivities  that 
took  place,  either  at  Fontainebleau  or  at  Compiegne,  or  the 
Tuileries. 

He  was  made  an  ambassador  at  Vienna,  no  one  knew  why, 
presumably  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  was  necessary 
to  make  something  out  of  him,  and  to  shower  honours  and 
dignities  on  his  head.  He  did  not  make  himself  liked  in  Austria, 
and  the  statesmen  with  whom  he  found  himself  thrown  into 
contact  did  not  form  a  high  opinion  of  his  diplomatic  talents. 
He  felt  himself  secretly  despised,  and  being  of  an  ambitious 
turn  of  mind,  he  wanted  to  do  something  very  striking  in 
order  to  make  himself  appreciated  by  others  to  the  same 
degree  as  he  appreciated  himself. 

It  was  with  joy  he  accepted  the  portfolio  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
and  the  first  time  he  presented  himself  before  Eugenie  after 
his  appointment  he  told  her  rather  theatrically :  "  Les 
interets  de  la  France  ont  ete  remis  en  de  bonnes  mains  par 
PEmpereur,  Madame,  soyez  en  sure "  ("  The  interests  of 
France  have  been  confided  by  the  Emperor  into  good  hands, 
rest  assured  of  that,  Madame"). 

I  did  not  know  the  Due  de  Gramont  well,  and  for  that 
reason  refrain  from  judging  him.  He  has  been  accused  of 
being  the  most  guilty  among  the  many  guilty  people  to  whom 
the  responsibility  of  the  unfortunate  Franco-German  War 

47 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

may  be  attributed.  Doctor  Evans,  in  the  very  interesting 
memoirs  published  after  his  death,  relates  that  at  the  time 
of  the  Duke's  appointment  at  the  head  of  foreign  affairs,  a 
foreign  statesman  whom  he  knew  well  used  the  following 
ominous  words  :  "  Believe  me,  this  nomination  is  the  fore- 
warning of  a  Franco-German  war." 

It  would  not  be  fair  to  go  as  far  as  that,  but  I  will  say 
that  the  Duke  was  attacked  more  than  any  of  his  colleagues 
with  the  folie  des  grandeurs.  Moreover,  he  was  suffering  acutely 
from  the  national  vanity  which  felt  itself  thoroughly  convinced 
that  nothing  could  resist  the  courage  of  the  French  army. 
It  did  not  strike  him  that  this  courage  would  be  of  no  avail 
in  the  presence  of  the  perfect  discipline  of  the  foe  it  would 
have  to  meet. 

I  must  say,  when  I  look  back  on  this  period  which  preceded 
the  war,  that  a  general  uneasiness  had  pervaded  the  public 
mind  ever  since  the  constitution  of  the  Ministry  presided 
over  by  Emile  Ollivier.  No  one  trusted  it,  even  among  the 
personal  friends  of  its  head,  and  as  a  very  clever  woman, 
the  Vicomtesse  de  Janze,  now  Princesse  de  Lucinge,  said 
at  the  time  :  "Its  enemies  do  not  trust  it,  and  its  sup- 
porters do  not  like  it."  The  words  were  cruel,  but  very 
true. 

The  last  twelve  months  of  the  Empire's  existence  saw 
vanish  from  the  political,  and  indeed  from  this  earthly  scene, 
three  men  who  had  once  played  a  considerable  part  in  the 
world,  and  whose  names  are  remembered  to  this  day :  Mont- 
alembert,  Berryer,  and  Lamartine.  I  never  saw  Lamartine, 
but  had  the  honour  to  know  Montalembert  well,  and  to  have 
been  received  often  by  Berryer,  whose  great  figure  consider- 
ably impressed  me.  It  was  impossible  to  feel  for  him  anything 
else  but  the  deepest,  the  most  sincere  respect.  He  was  an 
admirable  example  of  fidelity  to  principles,  of  convictions 

48 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

that  the  vicissitudes  of  life  cannot  change,  and  that  even  the 
errors  of  those  who  represent  them  cannot  weaken.  He  died 
as  he  had  lived,  a  Legitimist,  believing  in  the  divine  right 
of  kings,  and  determined  to  uphold  his  ideals  to  the  end. 
Throughout  his  career  he  retained  a  wide  sympathy  in  his 
estimates  of  men  and  of  things,  and  an  indulgence  for  the 
imperfections  of  those  with  whom  he  came  into  contact. 
Though  he  would  permit  no  compromise  with  his  own  con- 
science, he  realised  very  well  that  other  people  were  different, 
and  that  he  must  make  allowances.  Though  very  disdainful, 
he  was  not  vindictive  in  his  old  age,  whatever  he  might  have 
been  in  his  youth,  and  the  admirable  serenity  which  pervaded 
all  his  judgments  and  opinions  reminded  me  very  often  of 
the  beautiful  sunset  of  a  beautiful  day. 

Montalembert,  though  broken  by  illness  more  than  by 
old  age,  had,  nevertheless,  kept  some  of  that  brilliant  and 
caustic  wit  for  which  he  had  been  famous,  and  which  had 
amused  me  so  much  when  I  first  saw  him  in  the  early  'sixties. 
He  was  of  that  school  of  French  Catholics  who  had  never 
been  able  to  shake  off  the  influence  of  Lamennais,  and  to 
whom  the  exuberance  of  men  like  Veuillot  was  simply  in- 
sufferable. The  question  of  the  Papal  infallibility,  which 
had  been  submitted  by  Pius  IX.  to  the  Vatican  Council 
just  before  his  death,  had  been  the  last  great  preoccupation  of 
Montalembert,  who  could  not  reconcile  himself  to  what,  in 
his  eyes,  was  a  disastrous  measure.  His  religion  was  of  the 
broadest,  and  in  his  last  years  he  looked  at  things  with  less 
partisan  enthusiasm,  and  more  clearness  of  judgment.  I 
believe  that  in  his  inmost  heart  he  regretted  sometimes  having 
violently  separated  himself  from  Lamennais,  with  whom  he 
had  worked  on  the  famous  paper  UAvenir.  He  never  owned 
it,  however;  he  always  said  that  intentions  were  what  must 
be  considered  and  thought  of,  and  that  it  was  by  their  inten- 
E  49 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

tions,  more  than  by  their  actions,  that  people  ought  to  be 
judged.  In  his  way  Charles  de  Montalembert  was  just  as 
great  a  figure  as  Berryer,  whom  he  only  survived  by  a  few 
months. 

As  for  Lamartine,  his  death  brought  back  to  the  public 
mind  all  the  events  which  had  preceded  the  proclamation  of 
the  Second  Empire,  and  that  period  during  which  he  had 
been  at  the  head  of  the  Republic,  whose  triumph  he  was  not 
destined  to  see.  Cruel  material  losses  had  reduced  him  almost 
to  penury,  and  his  only  means  of  existence  was  a  pension 
which,  unknown  to  many,  he  received  from  the  private  purse 
of  the  Emperor,  who  had  had  the  delicacy  to  extend  it  to 
him  in  such  a  way  that  the  poor  poet  never  knew  to  whom 
he  owed  the  gift. 

This  reminds  me  of  one  of  the  nicest  remarks  that  Napoleon 
III.  ever  made  in  his  life.  When  he  was  asked  why  he  insisted 
so  much  on  Lamartine  never  learning  who  was  his  secret 
benefactor,  the  Emperor  replied  that  "  France  owed  so  much 
to  M.  de  Lamartine,  that  it  would  be  a  great  shame  if 
he  was  made  to  feel  he  had  need  to  be  grateful  to  its 
Sovereign." 

The  year  1869  had  come  to  an  end  under  a  cloud,  which 
even  the  Empress's  triumphs  in  Egypt  and  at  Constantinople 
had  not  brightened.  Napoleon  III.  was  worried,  not  only 
by  the  political  situation,  but  also  by  the  state  of  his  health. 
Notwithstanding  the  absence  of  his  Consort  he  invited  people 
to  Compiegne  as  usual,  and  there  several  persons  besides 
myself  noticed  that  he  looked  ill  and  tired,  and  that  his  eyes 
had  an  anxious  expression  which  had  never  been  observable 
before.  He  showed  himself  even  more  affectionate  than  usual 
towards  his  son,  and  was  heard  sometimes  to  sigh  whilst  watch- 
ing him.  Nevertheless,  no  one  suspected  that  anything  was 
radically  wrong,  and  not  a  single  man  or  woman  among  those 

50 


Political  Men  of  the  Time 

who  were  gathered  in  the  Castle  thought  that  it  was  the  last 
time  that  they  would  be  the  guests  of  the  Sovereign  who 
welcomed  them  with  such  kindness  and  affability.  Among 
all  those  who  passed  their  hours  in  amusement  in  the  Salle 
des  Gardes,  or  in  the  long  gallery  where  meals  were  served, 
not  one  recognised  that  a  hand  was  already  writing  on  the 
wall  the  same  fatal  words  that  appeared  during  the  Baby- 
lonian monarch's  last  banquet. 


CHAPTER   V 

BEFORE  THE  STORM 

WHEN  the  news  of  the  candidature  of  Prince  Leopold  of 
Hohenzollern  to  the  Spanish  throne  reached  me,  together 
with  a  letter  from  my  Ambassador  urging  my  return  to  Paris, 
I  was  staying  in  a  little  village  on  the  coast  of  Normandy. 
Though  I  started  at  once  for  the  capital,  I  could  hardly  bring 
myself  to  believe  in  the  possibility  of  a  war  between  France 
and  Prussia.  The  thing  appeared  to  me  to  be  quite  impossible, 
especially  in  view  of  a  conversation  I  had  had  with  the  Emperor 
immediately  after  the  results  of  the  Plebiscite  of  May,  1870, 
had  become  known.  I  had  ventured  to  offer  to  the  Sovereign 
my  congratulations  upon  the  new  triumph  he  had  obtained. 
Napoleon  III.  seemed  also  delighted,  and  though  it  was  most 
unusual  for  him  to  be  demonstrative,  yet  he  did  not,  on  that 
occasion,  attempt  to  hide  what  he  was  feeling,  going  so  far 
as  to  tell  me  that  the  results  of  the  Plebiscite  in  his  opinion 
"  had  not  only  consolidated  the  dynasty,  but  also  had  done 
away  with  the  legend  that  represented  him  as  desirous  of  a 
foreign  war  in  order  to  add  to  his  prestige."  "  No  one  can 
say  so  at  present,"  added  the  Emperor,  "  because,  after 
France  has  so  positively  affirmed  its  allegiance  to  the  Empire, 
it  would  be  madness  for  me  to  risk  losing  popularity  through 
a  war  which,  even  if  victorious,  would  always  materially 
impoverish  the  country." 

Napoleon    III.    did    not    seem    to    have    noticed  that 
M.  Rouher  had  at  once  observed  that  the  vote  of  Paris  had 

52 


Before  the  Storm 

been  distinctly  hostile  to  him,  and  that  as  things  were  organised, 
it  was  Paris  which  overthrew  dynasties  and  governments. 

But  that  wisdom  which  is  born  of  attentive  observa- 
tion of  the  events  of  the  world,  as  well  as  of  outward 
and  sometimes  insignificant  circumstances  that  lead  on  to 
their  development,  seemed  to  be  absent  from  the  thoughts 
of  the  principal  politicians  who,  at  that  particular  moment 
of  her  history,  held  in  their  hands  the  destinies  of  France. 
Neither  the  Emperor  nor  his  responsible  advisers  saw  farther 
than  the  victory  of  the  moment,  and  they  all  rejoiced  together 
at  the  new  triumph  which  they  had  won  for  themselves,  as  well 
as  for  the  party  which  they  represented. 

A  few  days  after  the  Plebiscite,  I  happened  to  be  calling 
on  a  social  celebrity,  the  Countess  de  Castiglione,  about 
whom  so  much  has  been  written  and  said.  Nature  had  been 
generous  to  her  in  many  ways,  but  she  was  not  destined  to 
keep  her  fairness  much  longer  than  a  rose  its  freshness.  At 
the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking,  she  had  barely  reached 
her  thirtieth  year,  and  was  already  the  ghost  of  her  former 
self.  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  met  a  woman  who  faded  so 
quickly ;  I  have  often  thought  about  it,  and  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  her  beauty  was  so  dazzling  that  it  obliterated 
the  imperfections  it  possessed,  just  as  the  Neapolitan  or 
Sicilian  sun  prevents  us  from  noticing  aught  else  but  the 
brilliance  of  the  places  it  lights  up  with  its  rays.  At  the 
first  glance,  her  loveliness  literally  took  one's  breath  away, 
as  it  did  mine  the  first  time  I  saw  her  in  1868,  when  already 
she  was  going  down  hill.  I  can  therefore  imagine  what  she 
must  have  been  at  the  time  she  first  startled  Paris  by  her 
glorious  complexion  and  extraordinary  beauty,  and  conquered 
the  senses  if  not  the  heart  of  the  Emperor. 

Madame  de  Castiglione,  without  being  the  very  clever 
woman  she  has  been  represented  by  some,  nor  the  stupid  one 

53 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

she  has  been  described  by  others,  was  possessed  of  an  intelli- 
gence that  was  certainly  above  the  average,  but  completely 
spoiled,  her  severe  critics  said,  by  an  inordinate  vanity,  which 
prostrated  her  at  the  feet  of  her  own  beauty,  and  made  every- 
thing in  her  life  subservient  to  it.  She  firmly  believed  that 
she  had  only  to  show  herself  to  conquer,  and  in  a  certain 
sense  it  was  quite  true,  until  the  numerous  victims  of  her 
charms  learned  to  know  her  well.  She  had  been  sent  to  France 
by  her  cousin,  the  great  Cavour,  with  a  mission  to  influence 
Napoleon  III.  in  favour  of  the  cause  of  Italian  independence. 
In  a  certain  sense  she  succeeded,  though  much  of  her  success 
can  be  attributed  to  the  personal  sympathies  of  the  Emperor 
as  well  as  to  the  rash  promises  of  which  he  had  been  so  generous 
in  regard  to  the  various  secret  societies  and  associations  with 
which  he  had  been  connected  in  his  youth.  But  he  was  a 
master  in  the  art  of  flattery,  and  it  pleased  his  fancy  to  allow 
the  young  and  lovely  woman  to  think  that  she,  and  she  alone, 
had  been  the  means  of  Italy  attaining  her  liberty.  Madame 
de  Castiglione  thereafter  took  herself  au  serieux,  and  believed 
she  was  a  political  heroine. 

Later  on,  however,  clouds  came  to  obscure  the  horizon  of 
her  successes ;  the  sensation  caused  by  the  lovely  Italian 
very  soon  vanished,  and  though  she  was  talked  about  a  great 
deal  in  society,  though  painters  still  raved  about  her,  and  old 
men  devoured  her  with  their  eyes,  whilst  young  ones  sighed 
at  her  feet,  though  women  grew  green  with  envy  when  they 
saw  her  enter  a  room,  certain  it  is  that  her  success  was  neither 
a  long  nor  a  permanent  one.  As  a  dream  she  flitted  through 
that  brilliant,  frivolous  society  of  the  Second  Empire,  and  as 
a  dream  she  vanished  into  the  darkness  of  the  night  that 
overtook  it. 

The  curious  thing  in  the  career  of  Madame  de  Castiglione 
was  the  way  in  which  she  used  to  come  and  go,  the  eclipses 

54 


Before  the  Storm 

her  personality  underwent,  and  the  notoriety  that,  now  and 
then,  arose  in  regard  to  her.  There  had  been  a  day  when 
she  was  asked  to  leave  France  altogether,  but  then  she  very 
soon  returned  to  it,  more  arrogant,  more  haughty,  more 
than  ever  ardent  in  resuming  a  political  role.  But  she  did 
not  like  Napoleon  III.,  whom,  perhaps,  she  did  not  forgive  for 
the  light-heartedness  with  which,  after  all,  he  had  treated 
her.  Though  she  would  never  have  owned  to  it,  she  knew  in 
her  inmost  heart  that  he  had  taken  her  as  he  would  have  taken 
any  other  pretty  woman  weak  enough  to  have  been  dazzled. 
Madame  de  Castiglione  was  then  in  the  glory  of  her  youth 
and  beauty,  and  she  may  well  be  forgiven.  Principles  she 
had  few,  religion  and  morals  still  less,  or  she  would  not,  upon 
more  occasions  than  one,  have  forgotten  the  great  name  she 
bore,  or  the  high  social  position  she  enjoyed,  and  accepted, 
for  instance,  the  banknotes  of  Lord  Hertford,  and  of  many 
others. 

A  curious  trait  in  that  celebrated  woman's  character 
was  her  pride  in  what  others  generally  hid  from  the  eyes  of 
the  world.  A  characteristic  anecdote  can  be  told  on  this 
subject.  One  day,  as  one  of  the  very  few  friends  she  had 
left  was  talking  with  her  of  that  period  of  the  Empire  when 
she  had  been  its  brightest  star,  suddenly  Madame  de  Castig- 
lione exclaimed  :  "I  shall  take  care  that  even  after  I  am  dead 
the  world  shall  know  how  great  I  was  whilst  it  lasted  "  ;  and 
with  a  cynicism  such  as  she  alone  would  have  been  capable  of, 
she  rang  the  bell,  and  turning  towards  the  maid  who  had 
appeared  in  answer  to  it,  "  Luisa,"  she  said,  "  montrez  a 
Monsieur,  la  chemise  de  nuit  de  Compiegne."  And  when  an 
elaborate  garment  all  batiste  and  lace  was  brought  to  her, 
she  added  :  "  I  shall  leave  instructions  to  bury  it  with  me." 

To  come  back  to  what  I  was  saying  at  the  beginning  of 
this  chapter,  I  had  called  upon  Madame  de  Castiglione  just 

55 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

after  the  Plebiscite,  and  naturally  the  conversation  turned 
towards  that  event.  The  Countess  listened  very  seriously 
to  all  the  remarks  exchanged  between  the  two  or  three  people 
who  were  present  in  the  room,  and  at  last  surprised  us  con- 
siderably by  saying  :  "  You  are  all  mistaken  ;  the  Plebiscite 
will  not  consolidate  the  dynasty.  Up  to  now  neither  Italy 
nor  Prussia  thought  that  it  could  maintain  itself  d  la  longue 
in  France,  where  it  was  firmly  believed  that  no  political  regime 
was  able  to  last  beyond  a  few  years.  The  results  of  the 
Plebiscite  have  proved  that  this  conviction  was  an  erroneous 
one ;  and  the  consequences  will  be  that  both  these  nations 
will  use  their  best  endeavours  to  inveigle  the  Emperor  into 
a  war.  It  is  very  well  known  that  France  is  unprepared. 
Such  an  event  will  naturally  throw  her  back  into  a  state  of 
revolution,  and  for  a  time  will  wipe  her  off  the  European 
slate." 

No  reply  was  made  to  this  extraordinary  remark,  but  when 
we  went  out  together  with  Alphonse  Rothschild,  who  had 
been  one  of  those  who  had  heard  her,  he  turned  to  me  and  said 
with  the  clear  insight  of  a  financier,  combined  with  the  clever- 
ness of  a  diplomat  and  his  experience  of  the  world  :  "  How 
that  woman  hates  the  Emperor." 

And  now  as  I  was  hastening  back  to  Paris  on  that  July 
day  of  the  year  1870,  I  remembered  both  the  remark  of  the 
Baron  and  the  tone  of  animosity  with  which  the  Countess 
de  Castiglione  had  spoken  on  that  occasion,  and  something 
like  apprehension  suddenly  seized  me,  apprehension  I  did 
not  know  of  what,  but  of  a  danger  which  I  felt  rather  than 
saw,  swooping  down  upon  this  brilliant  society  of  the  Second 
Empire,  which  I  had  grown  to  like  so  much  and  so  well. 

I  reached  Paris  late  in  the  evening  of  July  the  i6th,  twenty- 
four  hours  after  war  had  been  declared,  and  was  struck  by 
the  extraordinary  aspect  of  the  people  who  crowded  the 

56 


Before  the  Storm 

boulevards.  Much  to  my  surprise  they  were  singing  the 
forbidden  Marseillaise,  and  altogether  they  presented  an 
excited  appearance.  The  cafes  were  full,  and  from  time  to 
time  someone  would  stand  up,  and  scream  loudly :  "A 
Berlin  !  "  whereupon  the  mob  took  up  that  cry,  and  vociferated 
in  its  turn,  "  A  Berlin !  A  Berlin  1  "  All  Paris  seemed  to  have 
gone  mad,  but  already,  in  spite  of  what  has  been  said  to  the 
contrary,  remarks  were  heard  hostile  to  the  Emperor  and  to 
the  government,  who,  it  was  said,  had  not  soon  enough  tried 
to  avenge  the  insult  which  France  had  received,  but  had  done 
their  best  to  prevent  the  outbreak  of  a  war  which,  as  some- 
one remarked  in  my  presence  that  same  evening,  "  was  in- 
dispensable to  the  dignity  and  the  greatness  of  the  country." 
To  attempt  reasoning  with  such  folly  was  out  of  the  question. 
I  stopped  the  cab  which  had  brought  me  from  the  station, 
and,  alighting  near  one  of  the  cafes  on  the  boulevards,  sat 
down  under  the  pretext  of  having  something  to  drink,  but 
in  reality  to  observe  the  scenes  that  were  taking  place.  All 
the  windows  and  balconies  were  full  of  people  looking  down 
in  the  street  below,  and  watching  the  movement  of  the  crowd, 
listening  to  its  warlike  cries.  And  later,  when  the  theatres 
were  closed,  the  boulevards  seemed  to  be  fuller  even  than 
they  were  before.  Women  appeared  wearing  the  national 
colours,  and  above  the  noise,  the  shouts,  the  movements  of 
that  great  agglomeration  of  human  beings,  resounded  again 
one  great  acclamation,  one  immense  cry :  "A  Berlin !  A 
Berlin  !  " 

When  at  last  I  reached  our  Embassy,  I  found  that  con- 
sternation prevailed ;  not  at  the  war,  though  everybody 
agreed  that  anything  more  foolish  than  the  circumstances 
that  had  led  to  it  had  never  been  seen,  but  at  the  weakness 
displayed  by  the  government,  which  certainly  ought  to  have 
checked  that  exuberance  of  public  opinion,  and  prevented 

57 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

manifestations  that  at  any  moment  might  turn  against  itself. 
Then  surprise  was  expressed  at  the  disorderly  attitude  dis- 
played by  the  troops  when  starting  for  the  frontier,  as"already 
one  or  twro  regiments  had  done  that  morning.  No  one  ventured 
to  make  a  prediction  as  to  what  the  future  was  holding  in 
reserve,  but  serious  apprehensions  were  entertained  concerning 
the  ultimate  fate  of  the  Emperor  and  of  his  dynasty. 

That  last  feeling  was  very  general,  and  I  found  it  prevailed 
among  all  the  foreigners  then  at  Paris.  Two  or  three  days 
after  my  return  to  the  capital,  I  called  upon  an  old  friend 
of  mine,  Madame  Jules  Lacroix,  an  extraordinary  old  woman, 
a  Russian  by  birth,  whose  sister  was  the  widow  of  the  novelist 
Balzac,  and  who  had  made  her  home  in  France  ever  since 
her  marriage  with  M.  Lacroix,  the  brother  of  the  famous 
novelist  known  under  the  pseudonym  of  "  Bibliophile  Jacob." 
Madame  Lacroix  presided  over  one  of  the  pleasantest  salons 
of  the  time  ;  within  its  walls  one  was  always  sure  to  meet 
some  important  and  interesting  persons.  She  had  been  a  great 
friend  of  Morny,  and  though  her  family  had  been  Legitimists — 
she  used  to  boast  of  her  alliances  with  the  Bourbons  through 
Queen  Marie  Leszczinska,  her  aunt  many  times  removed — 
all  her  sympathies  were  with  the  Napoleonic  dynasty.  She 
possessed  a  villa  in  St.  Germain,  where  she  used  to  spend  her 
summers,  and  was  there  at  the  time  the  war  broke  out.  I 
went  to  dine  with  her  in  the  endeavour  to  find  out  something 
about  the  events  that  had  brought  about  the  present  crisis. 

Madame  Lacroix  received  me  with  effusion,  and  talked 
of  little  else  than  the  war,  and  of  the  consequences  it  would 
have.  To  my  great  surprise,  however,  I  did  not  find  her  by 
any  means  so  enthusiastic  as  I  had  expected,  rather  she 
was  subdued  and  anxious.  She  related  to  me  that  her  great 
friend  General  Castelnau,  one  of  the  aides-de-camp  of  the 
Emperor,  who  was  later  on  to  share  his  captivity,  did  not 

58 


Before  the  Storm 

look  at  the  situation  with  over-confident  eyes,  and  that  he 
had  given  her  to  understand  that  he  had  some  apprehensions 
as  to  the  ability  of  the  army  to  come  out  victorious  from 
the  struggle  it  was  about  to  enter. 

"  The  Emperor  is  more  ill  than  one  supposes,"  added 
Madame  Lacroix,  "  and  should  his  strength  fail  him,  who 
can  take  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  army  ?  Indeed,  it  would 
be  far  better  if  he  did  not  attempt  at  all  to  lead  it,  because  his 
presence  in  Paris  will  be  more  necessary  than  at  the  frontier. 
Suppose  a  revolution  breaks  out  here,  who  is  to  confront  it  ? 
The  Empress  is  too  unpopular  through  her  clerical  leanings 
to  inspire  confidence  in  a  nation  that  has  lost  every  respect 
for  priests  and  their  protectors." 

Several  episodes  were  then  related  concerning  the  delibera- 
tions which  had  taken  place  at  St.  Cloud  during  the  momentous 
days  before  the  solemn  question  of  war  or  peace  had  been 
decided.  It  seems  that  when  the  first  telegrams  from  Berlin 
announcing  the  candidature  of  Prince  Leopold  of  Hohen- 
zollern  for  the  Spanish  throne  had  arrived  in  Paris,  the  Duke 
de  Gramont  had  immediately  sent  them  to  the  Emperor, 
though  it  was  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  that  in  a  long 
conversation  which  he  had  subsequently  held  with  his  Sove- 
reign, he  had  insisted  on  the  affront  such  a  candidature  repre- 
sented for  France.  Why  it  was  an  affront  probably  the 
Duke  himself  could  not  have  properly  explained. 

On  the  contrary,  the  Empress,  who  was  afterwards  to 
be  represented  as  having  done  all  that  was  in  her  power  to 
decide  Napoleon  to  declare  war  against  Prussia,  had  been 
far  from  urging  him  to  it,  if  we  are  to  believe  what  I  heard  on 
that  day  at  Madame  Lacroix's.  It  seems  that  when  it  was 
found  to  be  impossible  to  resist  the  public  clamour  for  revenge 
against  this  insolence  of  Prussia,  as  the  chauvinists,  who  held 
the  upper  hand  at  that  moment,  were  pleased  to  call  the 

59 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Hohenzollern  candidature,  the  Empress  was  very  much  upset, 
and  to  General  Castelnau,  who  saw  her  come  out  from  her 
room  with  red  eyes  and  in  great  agitation,  she  said  that  she 
felt  very  anxious  and  very  much  afraid  at  the  responsibility 
that  was  to  become  hers  when  she  would  be  left  as  Regent 
alone  in  Paris.  The  General  then  advised  her  not  to  allow 
the  Prince  Imperial  to  accompany  his  father  to  the  frontier, 
upon  which  she  exclaimed  :  "  Oh  !  I  can't  keep  him  here, 
he  will  be  much  safer  amidst  the  army  than  with  me  !  " 
Singular  remark  for  a  mother  to  make. 

Altogether  it  seems  to  me,  from  what  I  had  opportunity 
to  hear,  that  at  this  crisis  of  her  life  Eugenie  entirely  lost  her 
head,  and  that  from  its  very  outset  allowed  outward  circum- 
stances and  impressions  to  obscure  her  clear  judgment.  I 
have  been  told  that  she  was  extremely  superstitious,  and 
firmly  believed  that  what  she  once  described  in  one  of  her 
conversations  with  an  intimate  friend  as  "  the  obstinacy  " 
of  the  Emperor  in  not  imposing  the  weight  of  his  authority 
upon  King  Victor  Emmanuel,  to  oblige  him  to  abandon  his 
secret  ambitions  to  annex  to  his  crown  the  territory  of  the 
Holy  See,  would  prove  fatal  to  him  as  well  as  to  the  Bona- 
parte dynasty.  She  was  a  fervent  and  devout  Catholic 
and,  in  addition  to  her  misgivings  as  to  the  future,  feared  the 
wrath  of  God. 

I  was  not  present  when  the  Emperor  left  St.  Cloud  and 
looked  for  the  last  time  on  his  home  of  so  many  happy  years, 
but  I  am  told  that  nothing  could  be  sadder  than  this  departure, 
so  very  different  from  that  other  occasion,  some  ten  years 
before,  when,  amidst  the  hurrahs  of  the  Parisian  population, 
he  had  started  for  the  Italian  frontier  to  take  part  in  a  struggle 
the  end  of  which  had  been  so  glorious.  And  yet  the  present 
war  was  a  great  deal  more  popular  than  had  been  that  of 
1859.  Not  only  was  it  desired,  but  almost  imposed  on  the 

60 


Before  the  Storm 

Sovereign,  by  a  nation  who  would  never  have  forgiven  him 
had  he  not  acceded  to  her  wishes.  And  yet,  when  Napoleon 
took  leave  of  his  wife,  his  Ministers,  and  the  members  of 
his  household,  on  that  eventful  28th  of  July,  though  few 
eyes  were  dry  in  bidding  him  good-bye,  the  country  over 
which  he  had  ruled  for  eighteen  years  did  not  unite  in  wishing 
him  God-speed.  On  the  eve  of  the  greatest  catastrophe 
of  modern  times,  an  atmosphere  of  foreboding  was  already 
making  itself  felt  in  the  sadness  of  that  early  departure. 

When  the  Sovereign  had  gone,  a  period  of  anxious  waiting 
ensued.  Paris  got  wilder  and  wilder,  became  more  and  more 
riotous.  One  of  the  Empress's  familiar  friends  called  upon 
her  one  day  at  St.  Cloud,  before  she  had  left  that  residence 
to  return  to  the  capital,  and  thought  it  his  duty  to  draw  her 
attention  to  that  fact,  and  to  express  to  her  his  apprehensions 
that  the  excitement  might  have  serious  consequences  should 
any  reverse  happen  to  the  army.  She  replied  with  vivacity  : 
"  Oh,  not  only  in  case  of  reverse,  also  in  case  of  victory,  the 
nation  only  wants  a  pretext  to  get  rid  of  us." 

These  words  are  remarkable,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  one 
had  voiced  such  sentiments  before  ;  they  reveal  on  the  part 
of  the  Regent  a  state  of  discouragement  which  explains, 
perhaps,  her  total  collapse  when  the  dreaded  crisis  at  last 
occurred ;  maybe  it  was  this  belief  which  led  to  the  indiffer- 
ence with  which  she  submitted  to  a  destiny  which  she  had 
accepted  as  foreordained,  and  against  which  she  had  recognised 
the  utter  futility  of  rebelling. 

She  was  leading  a  feverish  existence,  which  left  her  little 
time  to  think  over  her  difficult  position,  or  to  make  plans 
concerning  her  own  future.  After  having  tried  to  imbibe 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  she  was  told  the  declaration  of 
war  against  Prussia  had  been  received  in  the  whole  of  France, 
she  was  now  realising  how  little  grounds  there  had  been  for 

61 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

it.  Before  even  the  earliest  news  of  the  first  disasters  of 
this  deplorable  campaign  had  been  brought  to  her,  she  had 
prepared  herself  for  the  worst,  and  believed  in  the  worst, 
though  when  that  worst  came  it  was  to  surpass  all  that  she 
had  most  dreaded  or  imagined. 

Before  she  decided  to  leave  St.  Cloud,  she  went  for  a  walk 
in  the  park  with  one  of  her  ladies  in  waiting.  On  the  last 
evening  she  gave  way  to  the  apprehensions  that  were  tor- 
turing her  soul.  The  sun  was  setting  after  a  glorious  day, 
and  the  Imperial  residence  had  never  seemed  so  beautiful, 
nor  so  peaceful ;  a  peace  in  such  contrast  to  the  agitation  of 
the  country,  that  the  Empress  could  not  refrain  from  remarking 
upon  it.  Her  companion  tried  to  cheer  her  with  words  of  hope 
and  encouragement :  "  No,"  replied  Eugenie,  "  I  have  no 
hope  left,  and  if  I  could  still  wish  for  something,  it  would 
be  to  stop  the  course  of  time;  to  have  a  few  more  hours 
to  look  upon  St.  Cloud  and  its  gardens;  but  see,"  she  added, 
and  pointed  with  her  hand  towards  the  sun  that  was  slowly 
disappearing  below  the  horizon,  "  see,  this  is  how  our  prosperity 
is  also  setting,  and  who  knows  what  will  happen  in  the  night 
that  is  falling  upon  us  !  " 

And  covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  she  who  was  still 
Empress  of  the  French  sobbed  bitterly. 


62 


CHAPTER   VI 
THE    DISASTER 

WHEN  the  war  broke  out,  I  had  just  obtained  a  long  leave 
which  I  intended  to  spend  in  Russia,  and  immediately  after 
my  return  to  Paris  began  to  make  preparations  for  my  depar- 
ture. The  situation,  however,  was  getting  so  very  inter- 
esting that  I  kept  putting  off  my  vacation  from  day  to 
day,  especially  after  the  first  reverses  had  proved  to  every 
impartial  observer  that  the  days  of  the  Bonaparte  dynasty 
were  numbered. 

No  one,  however,  imagined  that  the  campaign  would  so 
very  quickly  decide  the  momentous  questions  that  were 
hanging  in  the  balance.  The  government  was  doing  its  very 
best  to  prevent  news  from  leaking  out  and  to  hide  from  Paris, 
as  well  as  from  the  country  in  general,  the  extent  of  the  first 
reverses  that  the  French  army  had  encountered.  This  was 
a  great  mistake  in  more  senses  than  one,  because  it  allowed 
the  wildest  rumours  to  get  about,  which  would  not  have 
been  possible  had  the  truth  been  made  known  at  once.  Had 
she  only  shown  frankness  and  decision,  the  Regent  might 
still  have  succeeded  in  rallying  around  her  a  considerable 
proportion  of  the  people  desirous  of  maintaining  public  order. 
To  secure  that,  her  best  course  would  have  been  to  appeal 
publicly  to  the  whole  nation ;  to  point  out  that  the  refusal 
of  the  Chambers  to  grant  the  necessary  military  credits  the 
government  had  asked  for  a  year  before  had  contributed  to 
the  disaster  that  had  overtaken  France ;  and  then  to  declare 

63 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

that  she  was  going  to  do  her  best  to  negotiate  an  honourable 
peace.  Above  all  things  she  should  never  have  convoked 
the  Chambers,  the  more  so  that  constitutionally  she  had  no 
real  right  to  do  so.  The  Emperor  himself  pointed  this  out  later 
on,  in  a  memorandum  which  he  wrote  for  one  of  his  great 
friends,  Le  Comte  de  la  Chapelle,  and  he  very  justly  remarked 
that  by  doing  it  a  pretext  was  given  for  revolution  to  break 
out.  But  the  impulsive  Empress  only  thought  that  the 
return  of  Napoleon,  vanquished  and  defeated  in  his  capital, 
would  expose  him  to  insult,  and  endanger  the  dynasty ; 
therefore,  she  urged  him  to  keep  away. 

£mile  Ollivier,  who  had  judged  differently,  entreated  her 
to  insist  on  Napoleon's  return  to  Paris,  but  Eugenie,  instead 
of  listening  to  his  advice,  did  her  best  to  thwart  it,  under 
the  mistaken  idea  that  with  another  Cabinet  she  had  more 
chances  to  meet  the  difficulties  of  the  situation.  From  some 
strange  reasoning  she  interfered  with  MacMahon's  plan  to 
draw  his  army  back  towards  Paris  in  order  to  defend  the 
capital,  and  gave  him  peremptory  command  to  join  Marshal 
Bazaine's  army.  Stranger  still,  MacMahon,  who,  being  re- 
sponsible for  his  troops,  should  not  have  allowed  politics  to 
interfere  with  his  plan  of  campaign,  acceded  to  her  request, 
and  marched  to  his  destruction  in  the  direction  of  Sedan. 

That  initial  mistake  of  the  Regent  was  the  principal  cause 
of  the  revolution  which  followed  upon  the  surrender  of  the 
French  army  to  the  Prussians.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that 
this  revolution  might  have  been  averted  in  the  long  run,  but 
certainly  it  might  have  been  delayed,  and  some  attempts 
might  have  been  made  to  save  the  dynasty.  Unfortunately 
the  Empress  thought  she  was  acting  very  cleverly  by  seeming 
to  give  no  thought  to  that  dynasty,  and  affecting  indiffer- 
ence as  to  its  fate.  She  allowed  the  romantic  side  of  her 
character  to  take  the  upper  hand  even  in  that  supreme 

64 


The  Disaster 

disaster  of  her  life,  and  refused  to  give  the  necessary  orders 
that  might,  perhaps,  have  averted  a  catastrophe  not  only 
where  the  Imperial  regime  was  concerned,  but  also  to 
the  country.  She  refused  to  defend  the  Tuileries ;  she 
refused  to  defend  the  cause  of  order  which  she  represented ; 
she  refused  to  defend  her  throne  and  that  of  her  son ;  she 
refused  to  act  energetically,  in  order  to  subdue  the  insur- 
rection that  was  already  making  itself  heard  under  her 
windows ;  she  refused  to  meet  the  mob  that  was  invading 
the  palace ;  and  ultimately  she  fled. 

It  has  been  said  that  she  was  betrayed  by  those  upon 
whose  devotion  she  had  the  right  to  count.  It  is  not  to  be 
contested  that  the  conduct  of  General  Trochu  was  cowardly, 
but  the  misfortune  of  Eugenie  was  that  she  had  never  suc- 
ceeded in  inspiring  any  other  feeling  than  admiration  for  her 
beauty. 

It  is  extraordinary,  when  one  remembers  all  that  happened 
at  that  time,  to  realise  how  each  and  all  lost  their  heads. 
There  was  still  a  government  in  Paris  on  the  4th  of  September, 
there  was  an  army,  a  responsible  ministry  that  might  have 
appealed  to  it,  and  yet  no  one  seemed  to  have  thought  it 
possible  to  resist  the  demands  of  the  mob — and  such  a  mob, 
too.  I  think  I  may  affirm  that  none  were  more  surprised 
at  the  easy  way  the  Empire  was  overturned  than  the  members 
of  the  government  that  succeeded  to  the  administration  of 
the  country.  As  a  proof  of  this,  I  may  mention  a  remark 
made  to  me  many  years  later  by  Gambetta  in  the  course  of 
a  conversation  which  we  had  on  the  subject :  "I  did  not  know 
when  I  left  the  Hotel  de  Ville  after  the  proclamation  of  the 
new  government,  whether  I  should  not  find  the  police  waiting 
to  arrest  me  when  I  reached  my  home,"  was  what  he  said. 

Had  the  Empress  personally  gone  to  the  Corps  Legislatif 
and  given  orders  to  sweep  away  the  mob  about  to  invade 
F  65 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

it,  and  to  arrest  Trochu,  it  is  probable  that  the  Parisians, 
cowed  by  her  personal  courage,  would  have  acclaimed  her, 
and  cried  out :  "  Vive  1'Imperatrice ! "  It  is  certain  that  no 
one  would  have  harmed  her,  but  Eugenie  lost  her  presence 
of  mind  upon  finding  herself  so  utterly  abandoned,  and  fled 
from  the  Tuileries,  forgetting  everything  in  the  disorder 
of  that  moment. 

Vague  news  concerning  the  disaster  of  Sedan  had  reached 
Paris  in  the  course  of  the  evening  of  the  2nd  of  September, 
rumours  with  no  official  authority  to  explain  them,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  circulated  everywhere.  Later  on  the  Empress 
was  reproached  for  not  acting  at  once  upon  them  by  rallying 
around  her  the  few  partisans  that  were  still  left  to  the  Empire. 
But  she  was  not  to  blame  for  this  apparent  inactivity,  because 
it  was  only  the  next  day  that  she  received  the  telegram  from 
the  Emperor  confirming  the  dreadful  news. 

Among  the  diplomatic  corps  it  had  been  known  earlier, 
and  commented  upon  as  it  deserved.  In  the  late  afternoon 
of  the  3rd  of  September,  I  went  out,  and  directed  my  steps 
towards  the  Tuileries.  The  palace  seemed  quite  peaceful. 
The  usual  sentinels  that  were  guarding  it  were  all  at  their 
posts,  and  a  crowd  on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  was  neither 
numerous  nor  hostile,  certainly  nothing  that  pointed  to 
insurrection. 

Among  the  curious  people  that  were  standing  in  front 
of  the  palace  I  could  hear  remarks  and  comments  on  the 
catastrophe  of  the  day  before,  but  what  struck  me  was  that 
these  remarks  were  not  hostile  to  the  Empire ;  on  the  contrary, 
words  of  regret  were  continually  expressed,  and  many  sym- 
pathised with  the  Emperor,  and  especially  the  Prince  Imperial. 
After  having  waited  for  some  time  I  turned  my  steps  towards 
the  Cercle  de  la  Rue  Royale,  where,  meeting  some  friends, 
I  told  them  that  I  was  surprised  to  find  the  capital  so  quiet, 

66 


The  Disaster 

and  that  I  thought  that  the  Empress  would  be  well  advised 
if  she  took  advantage  of  this  sympathetic  attitude  of  the 
public,  to  attempt  to  negotiate  a  peace.  Every  well-wisher 
of  France  felt  that  peace  was  indispensable  in  order  to  avoid 
worse  calamities.  I  was  very  much  surprised  when  a  man 
whom  I  knew  to  be  well  informed  as  a  rule,  replied  that  very 
probably  the  next  day  would  see  a  proposition  promulgated 
to  depose  the  Emperor.  He  added  the  remarkable  news — 
which  surely  was  absurd — that  this  would  be  done  at  the 
secret  instigation  of  the  Regent,  who  believed  the  Prince 
Imperial's  only  chance  of  ascending  the  throne  consisted  in 
the  removal  of  his  father  from  the  political  scene. 

I  could  not  bring  myself  to  believe  such  an  unfair  canard. 
Whatever  has  been  said  to  the  contrary  since,  Napoleon 
was  always  popular  with  a  large  section  of  people ;  the 
Parisian  workmen  especially  liked  him,  and  felt  grateful 
for  the  care  with  which  he  had  seen  to  their  welfare.  It  is 
true  there  were  some  who  screamed  that  he  was  responsible 
for  the  military  disasters  which  had  overtaken  the  country, 
but  these  belonged  to  that  section  of  unruly  spirits  that  take 
every  possible  opportunity  to  attack  every  government. 
It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  in  spite  of  the  Lanterne  and 
other  revolutionary  organs  of  the  same  kind,  the  influence 
wielded  by  the  press  had  not  reached  the  power  it  now  possesses  ; 
after  eighteen  years  of  Imperialistic  rule,  the  country  was 
disciplined  and  trained  to  obedience,  and  it  is  most  probable 
that  had  the  Emperor  personally  been  able  to  make  an  appeal 
to  it,  it  would  have  responded  heartily.  If  the  Regent  could 
have  obtained  the  liberation  of  her  husband,  and  so  secured 
his  help  to  conclude  peace  with  Prussia,  such  an  ending  to 
the  campaign  might  have  been  possible  at  that  particular 
moment — it  was  certainly  not  the  time  to  talk  of  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people  and  of  bowing  to  the  will  of  the  country. 

67 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

The  evening  passed  off  quietly.  I  walked  along  the  boule- 
vards after  eleven  o'clock;  the  night  was  beautiful,  and  the 
streets  as  animated  as  usual.  I  could  not  discern  much  con- 
sternation among  the  crowds,  everyone  seemed  only  to  be 
more  subdued  than  had  been  the  case  lately.  And  when  I 
left  my  house  on  the  morning  of  the  4th  there  were  certainly 
no  signs  whatever  of  a  revolution  in  the  streets,  nor  any 
atmosphere  of  impending  disaster. 

I  was  living  in  the  Avenue  de  1'Imperatrice,  now  Avenue 
du  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  as  I  reached  the  Champs  Elysees, 
I  found  that  everything  was  as  quiet  as  usual.  The  fountains 
were  playing  in  front  of  the  Palais  de  1' Industrie,  children 
were  romping  in  the  walks,  and  there  was  no  indication 
that  anything  unusual  was  going  on.  I  went  to  breakfast 
at  the  Cercle,  and  it  was  only  after  leaving  that  I  was 
accosted  by  a  friend  on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  who  told 
me  that  the  Corps  Legislatif  had  been  invaded  by  the  mob. 
Curious  as  I  am  by  nature,  I  turned  my  steps  towards  the 
Palais  Bourbon,  and  found  really  an  enormous  crowd  assembled 
there  ;  but  even  then,  there  was  nothing  hostile  in  its  attitude, 
it  was  rather  good-humoured  than  anything  else.  Some  leaders, 
however,  were  shouting :  "  La  decheance !  La  decheance,"  at 
the  top  of  their  voices.  No  one  seemed  to  offer  any  resist- 
ance, and  the  attitude  of  the  deputies,  when  I  managed  to 
enter  the  gallery  reserved  to  the  Corps  Diplomatique  in  order 
to  obtain  a  view  of  what  was  going  on  inside  the  House, 
was  rather  one  of  surprise  than  anything  else.  Amidst  the 
hum  of  voices  could  be  heard  the  deep  tones  of  M.  Jules  Ferry 
urging  those  present  to  go  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  to 
proclaim  the  Republic,  but  with  the  exception  of  Jules  Favre, 
and  of  M.  de  Keratry,  no  one  seemed  to  share  his  opinion. 
I  am  convinced  that  if,  at  that  moment,  the  Regent  had 
occupied  the  Palais  Bourbon  with  a  military  force,  the  Revolu- 

68 


The  Disaster 

tion  would  never  have  succeeded,  and  to  this  day  I  fail  to 
understand  how  it  was  that  no  member  of  the  government 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  take  upon  himself  the  respon- 
sibility for  such  a  measure,  which  might  have  changed  the 
whole  history  of  France.  It  is  quite  certain  that  even  when 
the  three  leaders  of  the  Revolutionary  movement  started 
for  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  they  did  not  possess  the  sympathy 
of  many  of  their  colleagues,  rather,  the  latter  only  wanted 
the  support  of  the  government  then  in  power,  to  get  rid  of 
them.  None  would  have  objected  to  the  arrest  of  these 
three  men,  had  there  been  found  but  one  person  strong 
enough  to  put  such  a  measure  into  execution. 

The  fact  is,  the  majority  of  the  members  of  the  Corps 
Legislatif  seemed  to  be  quite  dazed  by  what  was  happening ; 
they  did  not  at  all  understand  what  was  going  on.  I  am 
convinced  that  they  left  the  hall  where  the  sitting  had  taken 
place,  without  having  realised  that  it  was  for  the  last  time. 
As  soon,  however,  as  they  had  done  so,  the  mob  invaded 
the  Palais ;  but  the  scenes  of  disorder  that  are  asserted  to 
have  followed,  never  took  place.  I  remained  some  time  un- 
observed at  my  post,  and  failed  to  see  the  excesses  of  which 
some  speak  as  occurring.  Of  course,  shouts  were  heard, 
a  boy  of  about  eighteen  years  old  sat  down  in  the  Presidential 
armchair,  and  rang  the  bell  with  all  his  might,  but  this  was 
done  more  in  childish  amusement  than  anything  else.  I 
repeat  that  the  slightest  appearance  of  a  military  force  would 
have  restored  order  at  once,  and  this  makes  the  subsequent 
events  more  unpardonable  still. 

After  having  spent  about  an  hour  watching  the  scenes 
that  attended  the  end  of  the  Legislature  which,  under  Napoleon 
III.,  had  ruled  France  for  eighteen  years,  I  left  the  Palais 
Bourbon  and  turned  my  steps  towards  the  Tuileries.  There 
the  crowd  was  more  hostile,  especially  the  Garde  Nationale. 

69 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

The  men  had  turned  their  rifles  upside  down,  and  some  of 
them  were  screaming  aloud  they  would  never  fire  against 
"  la  nation."  Now  and  then  a  cry  resounded :  "  La  decheance  ! 
La  decheance,"  and  the  accents  of  the  Marseillaise  made  them- 
selves heard ;  but  it  must  be  remarked  that  no  cries  of  "  Vive 
la  Republique ! "  were  to  be  noticed,  at  least  I  did  not  hear 
any.  Another  strange  feature  of  this  pacific  revolution  was 
that  the  mutineers  were  in  small  bands,  which  were  each  fol- 
lowed by  a  considerable  crowd  of  onlookers,  which  probably 
would  have  dispersed  at  sight  of  the  first  company  of  soldiers. 
The  police  had  mysteriously  vanished,  and  the  whole  aspect 
of  the  crowd  was  good-natured  in  the  extreme ;  it  was  com- 
posed of  as  many  women,  children  and  dogs  as  of  insurges, 
and  seemed  more  on  amusement  bent  than  on  anything  else. 
Even  when  the  gates  of  the  Tuileries  were  at  last  forced,  and 
the  mob  found  itself  in  the  big  courtyard,  it  did  not  attempt 
to  enter  the  interior  of  the  Palace ;  the  people  merely 
walked  about  the  garden  and  the  inner  courtyard  that  led 
from  the  Carrousel  to  the  private  gardens.  Had  the  Empress 
remained  she  would  not  even  have  noticed  the  invasion, 
and  the  best  proof  of  what  I  say  here  lies  in  the  fact  that 
when  the  members  of  the  new  government  arrived  a  few 
hours  later  in  the  Tuileries,  they  found  everything  in  the 
same  state  as  usual ;  nothing  had  been  disturbed,  and  even 
the  papers  forgotten  by  the  Empress  on  her  writing  table 
had  been  left  untouched,  the  servants  were  all  there,  but  had 
only  taken  care  to  take  off  their  liveries,  with  the  alacrity 
which  people  of  their  class  always  display  in  turning  against 
their  former  masters  as  soon  as  misfortune  comes  in  any  shape 
or  form. 

I  was  one  of  the  persons  who  visited  the  Tuileries  on  the 
evening  of  that  memorable  4th  of  September,  which  saw 
the  fall  of  Napoleon  III.'s  dynasty.  No  one  knew  at  that 

70 


The  Disaster 

moment  what  had  happened  to  the  Empress,  nor  where  she 
had  fled,  and  rumours  were  going  about  in  some  quarters 
that  she  had  tried  to  join  the  Emperor,  and  in  others  that 
she  had  directed  her  steps  towards  Metz  with  the  intention  of 
seeking  a  refuge  with  the  army  of  Bazaine,  and  establishing 
there  the  seat  of  government. 

When  I  visited  the  Palace  I  found  that  no  one  there 
believed  she  had  gone  away  for  ever ;  indeed — and  this  is  a 
detail  that  I  believe  has  never  been  recorded  elsewhere — I 
found  one  of  her  maids  preparing  her  bed  just  as  usual ! 
It  was  evident  the  flight  had  been  a  hurried  one.  In 
the  private  rooms,  letters  never  meant  to  be  seen  by  a  stranger's 
eye  were  scattered  about ;  a  gold  locket  with  the  portrait 
of  a  lovely  woman,  the  Duchesse  d'Albe ;  another  one  with 
that  of  a  baby  in  long  robes,  the  first  picture  of  the  Prince 
Imperial ;  one  small  golden  crucifix ;  a  note  just  begun, 
and  addressed  no  one  knows  now  to  whom,  but  of  which 
the  first  words  ran  thus :  "  Dans  la  terrible  position  ou  je 

me  trouve,  je  ne "     The  writing  stopped  there  ;  evidently 

she  who  had  started  it  had  been  interrupted  by  the  bearer 
of  some  evil  message,  and  there  it  lay  forgotten,  in  the  midst 
of  the  tragedy  which  had  put  an  end  to  so  many  things 
and  to  so  many  hopes. 

The  Revolution  of  the  4th  of  September  was  especially 
remarkable  for  the  inconsiderable  impression  it  produced 
in  Paris  itself.  Life  went  on  just  as  usual,  and  save  for  a 
few  expressions  of  wonder,  no  one  seemed  quite  to  realise  the 
importance  of  it.  The  capital  began  to  prepare  for  the  siege, 
rather  with  mirth  than  anything  else.  To  tell  the  truth  no 
one  seemed  to  believe  in  its  possibility,  and  I  remember  one 
day,  when  visiting  a  friend  who  was  living  on  the  QuaiMalaquais, 
she  pointed  to  the  Seine  flowing  softly  under  her  windows, 
saying  at  the  same  time :  "  Croyez-vous  que  les  Prussiens 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

arriveront  devant  mes  fenetres  comme  les  Normands  jadis  sont 
entres  a  Paris  ?  "  ("  Do  you  think  that  the  Prussians  will 
arrive  in  front  of  my  windows  as  the  Normans  entered 
Paris  in  days  of  yore  ?  ") 

I  reproduce  this  remark  just  to  show  how  very  little  those 
in  the  capital  realised  either  the  present  or  the  future  at  this 
particular  moment. 

Another  thing  which  struck  me,  was  that  existence  out 
of  doors  seemed  to  go  on  much  as  usual,  in  spite  of  the  bad 
news  that  continued  to  pour  in.  The  theatres  were  full, 
and  people  seemed  to  make  the  most  of  the  late  summer 
days  that  were  coming  to  a  close.  There  was  very  little  ex- 
citement, and  the  feeling  that  predominated  was  one  of 
curiosity.  Some  people  were  departing,  but  not  in  large 
numbers,  and  it  was  only  towards  the  end  of  September  that 
people  began  seriously  to  look  at  the  situation.  By  that 
time  I  had  already  left  Paris.  I  went  on  the  15  th  of  September, 
hoping  to  return  in  January,  not  suspecting  then  that  the 
war  would  drag  on  as  it  did.  I,  together  with  many  reason- 
able people,  still  hoped  that  the  new  government  would  see 
the  necessity  of  ending  a  hopeless  struggle  before  it  was  too 
late. 

All  my  suppositions  turned  out  to  be  wrong,  however, 
and  it  was  only  towards  the  end  of  February  that  I  was  once 
more  to  find  myself  at  my  old  post,  by  which  time  the  un- 
fortunate Emperor,  languishing  in  captivity,  seemed  to  be 
forgotten,  and  the  Republic  had  grown  to  be  an  established 
fact. 


CHAPTER   VII 
LETTERS  FROM  PARIS  DURING  THE  SIEGE 

PARIS  was  already  invested  when  I  succeeded  in  leaving  it 
with  the  help  of  a  diplomatic  passport,  and  it  was  in  Vienna 
that  I  read  in  the  papers  the  news  of  the  useless  interview 
that  took  place  between  Prince,  at  that  time  still  Count, 
Bismarck,  with  M.  Jules  Favre  at  Ferrieres.  I  never  under- 
stood how  the  German  Chancellor,  who  at  that  time  had 
not  the  slightest  intention  to  conclude  peace,  consented  to 
receive  the  representative  of  a  government  which  he  had  not 
acknowledged.  I  was  told  later  on,  that  it  was  at  the  request 
of  the  King  of  Prussia  he  had  given  his  assent  to  Favre's 
arrival  at  the  German  headquarters. 

The  results  of  this  hopeless  attempt  are  well  known.  Jules 
Favre  talked  as  only  an  advocate  can  talk.  But  he  pleaded 
sentimental  reasons  where  hard  facts  only  had  to  be  con- 
sidered. When  he  returned  to  Paris,  it  was  with  the  con- 
viction that  as  the  government  of  the  Defense  Nationale  was 
neither  strong  enough  nor  respected  enough  to  compel  the 
country  to  accept  a  shameful  peace,  the  only  thing  was  to 
allow  matters  to  drift. 

A  good  many  of  my  friends,  and  of  my  colleagues,  had 
elected  to  remain  in  the  capital,  and  there  await  the  end 
of  the  war,  and  I  must  own  that  I  regretted  later  on  that  I 
had  not  been  given  the  same  opportunity.  That  period 
was  most  interesting,  and  I  have  always  felt  that 
to  understand  the  genesis  of  the  events  which  happened 

73 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

later  on,  one  ought  to  have  experienced  those  months  of 
anxiety,  when  the  great  capital  was  abandoned  to  her  fate, 
with  the  Prussian  guns  levelled  against  her. 

I  was  not,  however,  left  entirely  without  news,  and  as 
regularly  as  was  possible  received  letters  from  besieged  Paris, 
sent  either  by  balloon  or  by  carrier  pigeons.  I  have 
kept  them  all,  and  from  their  pages  now  give  extracts 
which  will  give  an  idea  of  the  feelings  of  the  Parisians  during 
the  trial  they  had  to  undergo. 

September  2$th,  1870. 

"  MY  VERY  DEAR  FRIEND, — You  will  be  wondering  what 
is  happening  to  us,  and  I  do  not  want  to  let  pass  the  present 
opportunity  to  send  you  some  news  concerning  us.  We  are 
now  quite  resigned  to  the  prospect  of  a  siege,  and  the  only 
question  that  is  agitating  the  public  mind  is  how  long  it 
will  last.  The  most  contradictory  rumours  are  spread,  and 
some  of  them  even  attribute  to  Jules  Favre  the  intention 
of  trying  to  restore  the  Empire,  after  having  assured  himself 
that  he  would  remain  its  Prime  Minister.  Of  course  this 
is  nothing  but  humbug,  and  I  only  mention  it  to  you  to  show 
you  to  what  extent  public  imagination  can  cajole  itself.  What 
is  not  humbug,  however,  is  the  difficulty  the  government 
finds  in  attempting  anything  in  the  way  of  peace  negotiations. 
It  begins  to  see  the  great  mistake  which  was  made  when  a 
small  minority  overthrew  the  Empire  so  unexpectedly.  Had 
it  been  left  standing,  all  the  onus  of  the  disastrous  peace, 
which,  whether  France  likes  it  or  not,  will  have  to  be  con- 
cluded, would  have  fallen  upon  its  shoulders,  whilst  at  the 
present  moment,  it  is  the  Defense  Nationale  which  will  bear 
the  brunt  of  anger  at  the  dismemberment  of  our  France. 
This  may  sound  the  death  knell  of  the  Republic,  and  those 
who  are  at  its  head  know  it  but  too  well.  I  think  that  the 

74 


Letters  from  Paris 

unlucky  phrase  of  Jules  Favre,  when  he  said  that  he  would 
never  give  up  '  un  pouce  de  notre  territoire,  ni  une  pierre 
de  nos  forteresses/  was  more  a  calculated  pronouncement  than 
the  result  of  an  enthusiasm  too  strong  to  think  of  the  con- 
sequences its  imprudent  words  might  have.  He  wanted  to 
ward  oft  the  evil  moment  when  he  would  be  called  upon  to 
do  that  which  the  Empire  he  had  helped  to  overthrow  would 
have  done  had  it  been  left  in  power ;  and  feeling  this  to  be 
inevitable,  had  tried  to  keep  the  knowledge  of  this  bitter 
fact  from  the  public.  One  begins  to  realise  the  mistake  one 
has  made,  I  repeat  it,  but  unfortunately  one  does  not  see 
what  ought  to  be  done  to  mend  it.  The  public  feeling  in  the 
city  is  very  different  from  that  which  was  prevailing  on  the 
4th  of  this  month.  The  Parisians  begin  to  realise  the  serious- 
ness of  the  situation,  but  there  is  no  talk  of  a  surrender,  and 
the  confidence  that  victory  will  return  to  France  is  very 
dominant  among  the  lower  classes,  whilst  it  is  recognised 
among  the  higher  ones  that  the  deal  has  been  irrevocably 
lost,  and  that  peace  ought  to  be  concluded,  else  serious  dis- 
turbances may  occur  among  the  Garde  Nationale  and  the 
numerous  militia. 

"  The  government  does  nothing,  and  when  I  have  said 
this,  I  say  everything.  They  say  that  they  can  do  nothing 
and  that  it  is  to  the  Tours  delegation  they  must  look  for 
an  attempt  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  Prussian  army.  So 
long  as  Gambetta  was  here  there  was  some  activity  in  minis- 
terial offices ;  now  he  has  gone  there  is  absolute  stagnation. 
All  these  ministers,  suddenly  called  upon  to  exercise  functions 
for  which  they  were  totally  unprepared,  seem  lost,  and  Jules 
Favre  looks  at  the  political  situation  with  the  same  eye  he 
would  look  at  some  big  criminal  or  civil  law  case — from  the 
outlook  of  an  advocate,  not  from  that  of  a  statesman.  They 
say  he  actually  cried  during  his  conversation  with  Bismarck. 

75 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

The  question  arises  whether  these  tears  were  genuine  ones  of 
grief,  or  simply  a  rhetorical  incident.  How  much  more 
dignity  there  was  in  the  conduct  of  General  Wimpffen  and 
his  colleagues,  when  they  discussed  with  the  German  Minister 
and  the  German  General  Staff  the  conditions  of  the  capitu- 
lation of  Sedan  !  No  one  likes  Jules  Favre,  whom  even  his 
partisans  consider  to  be  a  demagogue  of  talent,  but  nothing 
more.  And  certainly  France  does  not  need  demagogues  at 
the  present  time. 

"  There  are  comical  notes  in  the  gravity  of  the  situation. 
People  talk  about  never  surrendering,  about  dying  for  their 
country,  whilst  running  about  buying  hams  and  butter, 
and  as  many  provisions  as  they  can,  in  view  of  the  siege. 
Vegetables  are  at  a  premium,  meat  will  soon  become  a  luxury, 
bread  is  already  looked  upon  in  the  same  light  that  cakes 
were  formerly,  and  frivolous  women  are  getting  excited  at 
the  thought  of  the  many  privations  which  they  expect 
they  will  be  called  upon  to  endure.  Yet  comparatively  few 
people  have  left  the  capital,  where,  after  all,  perhaps,  one  is 
safer  than  in  the  provinces.  News  leaks  out  sometimes  from 
the  outside,  mostly  false ;  for  instance,  it  was  related  the  other 
day,  that  the  Prince  Imperial  had  reached  Metz,  and  put 
himself  under  the  protection  of  Marshal  Bazaine.  All  the 
partisans  of  the  Empire  believed  it,  but  serious  people  did 
not  attach  any  faith  to  this  rumour.  The  Legitimists  are 
full  of  hope  that  out  of  the  present  complications  a  monarchical 
restoration  may  ensue ;  the  Radicals,  on  their  part,  are  sure 
that,  sooner  or  later,  the  government  will  fall  into  their  hands. 
The  principal  question  that  is  agitating  the  public  mind,  is 
as  to  who  would  eventually  have  the  right  to  conclude  peace 
with  Prussia.  No  one,  to  begin  with  the  members  of  the  present 
administration  (for  one  can  hardly  call  it  a  government), 
believes  that  the  King  of  Prussia  would  consent  to  treat 

76 


Letters  from  Paris 

with  them.  Therefore  the  calling  together  of  a  National 
Assembly  is  imperative,  but  would  this  Assembly  be  the 
expression  of  the  will  of  the  nation,  when  the  elections  would 
have  to  be  held  under  the  muzzles  of  the  enemy's  guns  ? 
In  a  word,  we  live  in  a  state  of  uncertainty  such  as  France 
has  never  yet  experienced,  no  one  knows  what  the  morrow 
holds  in  reserve,  and  though  there  is  a  government  of  the 
National  Defence,  yet  there  is  no  one  to  defend  the  country." 

I  have  reproduced  this  letter  in  its  entirety,  because  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  explains  very  well  the  state  of  opinion  in 
besieged  Paris.  Later  on,  I  was  to  receive  another  com- 
munication from  the  same  correspondent,  written  immediately 
after  the  insurrection  of  the  i8th  of  October.  This  one  is 
more  alarming  even  than  the  first. 

"  We  have  had  the  other  day,"  he  writes  on  November  4th, 
"  the  first  taste  of  that  revolution  which  we  shall  not  escape. 
It  began  by  an  echauffouree  of  the  National  Guard,  and  ended 
by  an  invasion  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  by  the  mob.  It  was 
repulsed,  but  for  how  long  ?  This  is  the  question,  and  the 
population  of  the  faubourgs  is  getting  so  excited  that  at 
the  first  opportunity  it  will  most  certainly  again  take  the 
offensive,  and  this  time  with  greater  chances  of  success. 
Don't  forget  that,  after  all,  we  have  no  regular  army  in  Paris 
worthy  of  that  name,  that  arms  have  been  distributed  not 
only  to  the  National  Guard,  but  to  a  great  part  of  the  popu- 
lation ;  that,  consequently,  it  is  the  latter,  and  not  the  pseudo- 
government,  that  in  reality  holds  the  power  to  impose  its  will 
upon  the  capital.  One  talks  a  lot  about  patriotism,  believe 
me  there  is  very  little  of  patriotism  about ;  all  the  politicians 
who  have  tried  to  persuade  themselves  that  they  have  the 
qualifications  of  real  statesmen,  only  think  of  their  future, 

77 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  of  the  possibility  of  their  own  greatness  rising  out  of  the 
ruins  of  their  fatherland.  They  do  nothing  else  but  talk  ; 
I  wish  they  would  work — it  would  be  more  to  the  point. 

"  I  must  tell  you  something  that  will  surprise  you.  Rumours 
have  been  going  about  that  the  Prussian  government  had 
started  some  negotiations  with  the  Empress  in  England.  She 
is  still  Regent  in  name  if  not  in  fact,  and  her  intervention, 
especially  if  it  was  strengthened  by  a  demonstration  of  the 
army  of  Metz  in  her  favour,  might  decide  the  King  of  Prussia 
to  conclude  an  honourable  peace,  or  at  least  one  which  would 
be  termed  honourable  by  every  reasonable  person.  Well, 
will  you  believe  me  that  a  Bonapartist,  quite  au  courant  with 
what  goes  on,  and  who  knows,  moreover,  the  character  of  the 
Empress,  told  me  that  in  his  opinion  she  would  always  hesitate 
to  take  measures  which  might  afterwards  be  attributed  to  her 
as  proceeding  from  a  desire  to  save  the  dynasty  ?  She  persists 
in  that  attitude  which  she  has  adopted  from  the  outset,  of 
putting  France  before  everything,  and  of  appearing  to  be 
careless  of  the  interests  of  her  family.  She  will  not  see  that, 
at  a  time  of  such  crisis,  the  interests  of  the  dynasty  are  in- 
separable from  those  of  the  country,  and  that  if  by  means  of 
an  intervention  of  the  army  of  Metz  in  its  favour  she  can 
conclude  peace  under  more  favourable  conditions  than  those 
which  Prussia  would  impose  on  a  Republican  government, 
it  is  her  clear  duty  to  do  all  that  she  can  to  achieve  that 
result,  no  matter  what  reproaches  might  be  hurled  at  her  in 
the  future.  The  Empire  still  has  many  partisans  in  France, 
especially  among  the  working  classes ;  they  would  most 
certainly  have  rallied  around  the  Regent  if  it  had  been 
properly  explained  to  them  that  she  had  saved  the  army 
of  Metz  from  the  fate  that  had  overtaken  that  of  Sedan, 
and,  in  consideration  of  this  service,  one  would  have  forgiven 
her  many  things.  Of  course  what  I  am  telling  you  here 

78 


Letters  from  Paris 

reposes  on  hearsay,  and  you  most  probably  know  more  about 
it  than  we  can  here,  separated  as  we  are  from  the  outside 
world ;  but  I  repeat  it,  strong  rumours  have  been  going  about, 
that  Eugenie  has  been  approached  by  Prussia,  who,  it  seems, 
is  even  more  eager  for  peace  than  we  are,  and  that  it  has 
been  hinted  to  her  that  every  facility  would  be  granted  to 
her  to  appeal  to  France,  to  help  her  out  of  the  terrible  situa- 
tion in  which  both  find  themselves  at  present.  Among  a 
certain  circle  strong  hopes  were  indulged  at  one  time  that  these 
rumours  would  turn  out  to  be  true,  consequently  the  news 
of  the  capitulation  of  Metz,  which  the  Prussians  took  good 
care  should  reach  us,  came  as  a  thunderbolt  to  the  Bonapartists, 
who  openly  declared  that  it  had  been  brought  about  through 
the  refusal  of  the  Empress,  from  mistaken  dynastic  reasons, 
to  assume  the  responsibility  of  a  peace,  the  conditions  of 
which,  including,  as  they  necessarily  must  have  done,  a 
concession  of  territory,  would  have  excited  indignation 
throughout  France. 

"  All  that  I  am  telling  you  is,  of  course,  the  result  of  my 
private  observations,  but  these  may  interest  you,  in  view 
of  your  Imperial  sympathies. 

"  And  now  you  shall  ask  me  what  I  am  doing  personally 
in  our  poor  besieged  Paris.  Well,  I  happened  to  be  near  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  on  that  memorable  i8th  of  October,  and  I 
was  much  interested  in  the  motley  crowd  that  assembled  in 
front  of  it.  What  struck  me  extremely  was  the  large  con- 
tingent of  women,  who  were  trying  either  to  help  or  to  excite 
their  husbands  or  friends.  I  did  not  think  that  Parisian 
females  were  so  revolutionary,  nor  that  they  counted  in  their 
midst  such  a  number  of  old  hags  worthy  to  rival  the  witches 
of  Macbeth  in  appearance.  I  am  afraid  that  if  we  see  a  real 
revolution — which  God  forbid,  though  I  am  inclined  to  think 
its  advent  is  inevitable — the  women  will  show  themselves 

79 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

ten  times  more  ferocious  than  the  men,  and  that  the  days 
of  the  tricoteuses,  who  dictated  to  the  Convention  in  1793, 
are  not  by  any  means  over  yet. 

"  The  remnant  of  society  left  in  the  capital  has  bravely 
made  up  its  mind  not  to  eat,  drink  and  be  merry,  but  to  go 
through  all  the  hardships  of  the  siege  with  good  humour 
and  resignation.  People  still  see  each  other,  and  indeed 
social  life  has  not  changed,  although  the  menus  of  the  dinners 
to  which  one  is  invited  are  anything  but  luxurious.  For  in- 
stance, yesterday  I  was  asked  to  lunch  by  my  old  friend 
Countess  Stephanie  Tascher  de  la  Pagerre,  together  with  two 
other  people,  and  this  is  what  we  were  offered  :  a  potage 
Liebig  with  macaroni,  roasted  horseflesh,  fresh  beans,  and 
chocolate  cream  without  cream,  but  made  with  tinned  milk. 
With  the  most  charitable  feelings  in  the  world,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  say  that  it  was  good,  or  that  anyone  liked  it. 

"  Clubs,  too,  are  just  as  formerly,  though  they  present 
the  unusual  sight  of  members  dressed  in  uniform,  who  often 
come  to  lunch  direct  from  the  front,  and  who  leave  a  rifle 
instead  of  a  stick  to  the  care  of  the  hall  porter,  whilst  they 
snatch  a  hasty  and  nasty  meal.  The  theatres  play  just  as 
usual ;  an  ambulance  has  been  organised  in  the  foyer  of  the 
Comedie  Franc.aise,  and  Mile.  Sarah  Bernhardt  is  just  as 
bewitching  under  the  white  cap  and  apron  of  a  nurse  as  she 
was  in  her  most  gorgeous  stage  dresses.  In  short,  the 
comedie  humaine  has  become  the  comedie  parisienne,  not- 
withstanding the  tragedy  of  Paris  and  of  France." 

This  letter,  penned  by  an  American  who  had  elected  to 
remain  in  Paris  during  the  siege,  gives  pretty  well  the  idea 
of  the  spirit  that  prevailed  among  the  Bonapartists,  and  the 
one  which  animated  the  grand  monde,  or  at  least  those  who 
had  not  fled  abroad.  To  complete  the  picture,  I  must  give 

80 


Letters  from  Paris 

another  letter,  one  from  an  old  lady  whose  name  I  have 
already  mentioned  in  these  pages — Madame  Lacroix,  who  had 
returned  from  St.  Germain  after  the  4th  of  September,  and, 
notwithstanding  her  great  age,  had  remained  in  Paris,  where 
her  salon  was  the  rendezvous  of  her  numerous  friends,  and 
just  as  animated  as  it  had  been  formerly. 

"  Our  situation  is  always  the  same,  just  as  lamentable 
and  just  as  sad.  Nothing  seems  to  change  around  us,  save 
the  fact  that  provisions  are  getting  scarcer  and  scarcer,  that 
butter  is  not  to  be  had  for  love  or  money,  and  that  dogs, 
rats,  and  cats  appear  on  the  best  tables  in  place  of  beef  and 
mutton.  Gas  also  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  one  has  to 
exercise  strict  economy  in  oil  and  paraffin.  I  have  now  only 
one  lamp  burning  in  my  drawing-room,  which  we  take  along 
with  us  when  we  go  to  the  dining-room.  The  population 
begins  to  get  exasperated  at  this  heavy  inaction  that 
weighs  upon  it ;  the  absence  of  all  reliable  news  also  tells  on 
the  hearts  and  minds.  On  the  agth  of  November  we  were 
awakened  by  the  sound  of  the  cannon,  and  one  heard 
that  at  last  the  government  had  decided  to  make  an  effort 
to  attack  the  enemy,  in  the  endeavour  to  effect  a  junction 
with  the  army  of  the  Loire,  which,  as  it  seems,  was  quite  near 
to  us ;  at  least  this  is  what  our  government  choose  to  tell  us. 
Trochu  has  published  another  proclamation,  addressed  to 
the  population,  just  as  devoid  of  common  sense  as  all  his 
previous  ones  have  been.  For  about  three  days  we  were 
left  absolutely  without  news,  though  it  was  rumoured  that 
the  Prussians  had  been  defeated  by  Ducrot,  but  at  last  it 
leaked  out  that  the  plans  of  Trochu  had  failed,  and  that  the 
effort  made  by  the  garrison  of  Paris  had  been  unsuccessful. 

"  On  the  5th  of  December  we  were  startled  by  the  news  of 
the  defeat  of  the  army  of  Chanzy  near  Orleans,  and  I  must 

G  81 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

confess  to  you  that  now  the  most  sanguine  hopes  have  been 
shattered,  and  the  only  feeling  left  is  the  desire  to  see  this 
nightmare  under  which  we  are  living  come  to  an  end." 

This  letter  was  written  just  before  the  end  of  that  sad 
year  1870,  which  had  begun  so  brilliantly  with  a  reception 
at  the  Tuileries,  now  standing  deserted  and  abandoned  by 
its  former  masters.  In  the  first  fortnight  of  January  a  curious 
incident  occurred,  which,  I  believe,  has  not  been  widely  known 
among  the  public,  but  yet,  in  view  of  the  events  that 
happened  later  on,  offers  a  certain  interest.  I  will  relate  it 
in  the  words  of  the  friend  who  informed  me  of  it,  the  American 
whose  letter  I  have  already  given : 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  which  will  probably 
appear  to  you  rather  like  a  scene  taken  out  of  a  comic  opera, 
but  which  I  am  assured  really  took  place  the  other  day.  A 
friend  of  the  Orleans  princes  asked  General  Trochu  to  grant 
him  an  interview,  and  tried  to  win  his  support  to  a  propo- 
sition to  ask  the  Duke  of  Aumale  to  accept,  if  only  for  an 
intermediary  period,  the  post  of  President  of  the  National 
Defence.  Trochu,  after  having  indulged  in  the  usual  rhetoric 
of  which  he  is  so  fond,  at  last  pathetically  replied  that  he 
had  sworn  fidelity  to  the  Republic,  and  that  as  a  soldier 
he  could  not  break  his  oath  ;  to  this  his  visitor  retorted  that 
probably  that  oath  was  sworn  on  something  he  respected 
more  than  the  one  he  had  made  to  the  Empress  Eugenie 
when  he  told  her  she  could  rely  on  his  honour  as  a  soldier, 
a  Catholic,  and  a  Breton.  Trochu  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes, 

and  then  said :  '  J'ai  fait  passer  la  patrie  avant  tout  lorsque ' 

'  Lorsque  il  s'est  agi  pour  vous  de  vous  mettre  a  la  tete 
du  gouvernement  vous  -  meme  *  ('I  put  my  country  first 

when '     '  When  it  was  a  question  of  placing  yourself  at 

the  head  of  its  government ')  interrupted  the  other. 

82 


Letters  from  Paris 

"  I  cannot,  of  course,  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  anecdote, 
but  it  was  told  to  me  by  a  person  who  is  generally  well 
informed.  But  what  I  do  know,  is  that  very  few  people 
have  been  or  are  despised  to  the  extent  of  General  Trochu, 
for  whom  no  one  finds  a  good  word  to  say,  and  everyone 
is  hoping  that  his  colleagues  will  oblige  him  either  to  sign  the 
capitulation  of  Paris,  which  cannot  be  delayed  much  longer, 
especially  now  that  the  bombardment  has  commenced  [this 
letter  was  written  on  the  25th  of  January],  or  else  to  resign 
his  functions  altogether.  His  dispatch  of  the  20th  only 
confirmed  the  opinion  one  had  as  to  his  military  ability, 
and  certainly  nothing  could  be  more  lamentable  than  the  sight 
of  the  troops  returning  into  the  town  after  the  battles  of  the 
igth  and  2oth,  weary,  hungry,  worn  out,  and  exasperated 
against  their  leaders.  That  exasperation  has  again  brought 
down  from  the  faubourgs  the  agitators  that  have  ever  since 
the  4th  of  September  kept  Paris  in  a  state  of  turmoil,  and 
on  the  22nd  of  January  in  the  night  they  invaded  the  prison 
of  Mazas,  and  delivered  several  political  men  detained  there, 
among  others  Flourens.  They  also  made  an  attempt  to 
occupy  the  mairie  of  the  2oth  arrondissement.  A  battle  has 
taken  place  opposite  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  the  government 
is  entirely  discredited  ;  even  among  the  former  most  deter- 
mined partisans  of  war  being  continued  at  any  price,  the 
feeling  prevails  that  peace,  no  matter  on  what  conditions, 
would  be  better  than  the  present  state  of  things,  which  is 
only  favourable  to  promoters  of  disorder,  of  which  there  are 
but  too  many." 

As  is  known,  the  capitulation  of  Paris  took  place  on  the 
28th  of  January,  and  I  prepared  myself  at  once  to  return. 
After  a  journey  devoid  of  serious  incidents,  but  long  and 
fatiguing,  I  reached  Versailles  on  the  3ist  of  that  month, 

83 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

having  taken  four  days  to  do  so.  I  had  started  from  Berlin, 
where  I  had  been  waiting  for  the  first  opportunity  to  return 
to  my  post  in  Paris.  At  Versailles  I  found  M.  Thiers,  who 
was  already  busy  negotiating  the  conditions  of  a  peace 
that  most  certainly  the  Empress  Regent,  had  she  only  taken 
the  responsibility  of  its  conclusion,  would  have  been  able  to 
sign  under  more  favourable  clauses  than  those  to  which  France 
had  to  submit.  It  is  possible,  if  not  probable,  that  the  Imperial 
eagles  would  not  have  witnessed  the  entry  of  the  German 
troops  into  Paris,  a  humiliation  which  old  King  William  did 
not  see  the  necessity  to  spare  a  Republic  for  which  it  was 
impossible  to  feel  the  least  respect. 

Before  closing  this  chapter  I  must  mention  one  letter 
among  the  many  which  reached  me  at  Versailles  during  those 
days  from  friends  who  were  in  Paris,  giving  me  some  details 
concerning  this  crowning  episode  to  the  many  sad  and 
disgraceful  ones  that  will  make  the  war  of  1870  for  ever 
memorable. 

March  qth,  1871. 

"  We  were  all  waiting  with  anxiety  for  that  ist  of  March 
that  was  to  see  the  German  troops  enter  the  capital.  Grave 
apprehensions  were  entertained  on  the  subject  by  many  people, 
who  declared  that  very  probably  the  excited  Parisians  would 
indulge  in  demonstrations  of  hostility  against  the  Prussians, 
which  would  assuredly  have  terrible  consequences.  On  the 
27th  of  February  I  called  at  Rothschild's  bank  in  the  Rue 
Lafitte,  hoping  to  hear  some  news  there,  where  they  were 
generally  better  informed  than  anywhere  else.  One  of  the 
principal  employees,  whom  I  knew  well,  told  me  with  tears 
in  his  eyes  that  no  efforts  of  Jules  Favre  had  availed,  and 
that  the  German  army  would  occupy  Paris  on  the  ist,  but 
that,  as  a  last  concession,  that  occupation  would  be  limited 
to  a  certain  zone,  and  not  extend  itself  to  the  whole  city. 

84 


Letters  from  Paris 

Great  preparations  had  been  made,  and  the  shopkeepers  in 
the  streets  through  which  the  troops  of  the  enemy  were  to 
pass  had  declared  that  they  would  close  their  doors  and 
shutters  '  pour  ne  pas  assister  a  cette  honte,'  as  one  of  them 
told  me  himself ;  it  was  also  tacitly  understood  that  private 
houses  would  pull  down  their  blinds.  Curious  to  see  how 
things  would  go  on,  and  feeling  convinced  that,  in  spite  of  the 
apprehensions  entertained  in  certain  quarters,  no  disturbances 
of  any  kind  would  occur,  Frenchmen  being  always  cowed  down 
whenever  they  see  real  strength  before  them,  I  was  up  very 
early,  and,  rejoicing  at  the  splendid  weather  which  had 
suddenly  set  in  after  very  dark  and  gloomy  days,  as  if  to 
welcome  the  triumph  of  Prussia,  I  went  down  the  Champs 
Elysees,  and  was  present  when  the  first  German  detachments 
made  their  appearance.  The  sight  was  imposing,  and  could 
only  suggest  many  philosophical  thoughts.  The  greatest 
discipline  prevailed,  and  this  discipline  seemed  to  make  a 
great  impression  on  the  numerous  throngs  that  lined  the  streets 
to  see  the  unusual  spectacle.  A  few  women  were  weeping 
with  a  certain  affectation,  but  there  were  also  some  girls 
smiling  and  welcoming  with  glances  full  of  coquetry  the 
Prussian  officers  riding  in  front  of  their  regiments.  At  about 
four  o'clock  everything  was  over,  and  the  soldiers  settled  in 
the  cantonments  which  had  been  allotted  to  them  for  the 
night.  The  next  day  the  sight  was  stranger  still.  The  popu- 
lation of  Paris,  notwithstanding  what  may  have  been  told 
to  you  to  the  contrary,  had  fraternised  with  the  enemy,  and 
one  saw  the  usual  camelots  that  appear  in  the  streets  of  Paris 
whenever  there  is  something  new  to  see,  offer  to  the  Prussian 
soldiers  cigarettes,  matches,  and  newspapers,  whilst  girls 
timidly  extended  some  flowers  to  them — not,  however,  before 
looking  carefully  around  them  to  see  whether  anyone  watched 
them  doing  so.  When,  on  the  3rd  of  March,  the  German 

85 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

troops  retired,  I  heard  that  typical  remark,  from  a  woman 
who  had  been  watching  their  going  away  with  eager  eyes  : 
'  Apres  tout,  ce  sont  de  beaux  soldats  que  ceux-la  ! '  she  cried. 
"  It  seems  that  a  solemn  moment  occurred  during  the 
review  held  by  the  new  Emperor  on  the  Hippodrome  de 
Longchamps,  before  the  troops  started  to  enter  Paris.  I 
have  been  told  the  sight  was  most  imposing,  and  must  have 
roused  a  world  of  remembrances  in  the  heart  of  its  principal 
hero.  What  must  have  been  his  thoughts  at  a  moment 
when  the  history,  as  it  were,  of  a  whole  century  was  suddenly 
recapitulated  before  his  eyes  ?  His  fate  had  made  him  witness 
the  present  triumph,  after  the  humiliations  of  Jena  and  that 
first  occupation  of  the  French  capital  by  the  allied  troops  in 
1815,  when  another  Napoleon  had  seen  fortune  retire  from 
him  !  It  seems  that  after  the  review  was  over,  the  Emperor 
looked  wistfully  for  a  considerable  time  at  the  long  line 
of  troops  filing  along  on  their  triumphal  journey,  and  before 
dismounting  from  his  horse  he  turned  towards  the  Crown 
Prince  with  the  simple  remark,  '  I  hope  that  you,  too,  have 
thanked  God  to-day!'" 


86 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  COMMUNE 

As  already  mentioned,  I  returned  to  Versailles  during  the 
last  days  of  January,  and,  except  a  short  visit  to  Paris, 
whither  I  went  to  see  after  my  household  gods  which  had 
been  left  to  their  fate  during  the  siege,  and  to  inquire  after 
the  friends  who  had  remained  in  the  capital  during  those 
anxious  months,  I  stayed  there  until  I  left  for  Bordeaux, 
where  the  National  Assembly  met  in  order  to  ratify  the  con- 
ditions of  the  peace  that  was  ultimately  to  be  signed  in 
Frankfurt. 

At  Bordeaux,  to  my  great  surprise,  I  found  that  the  sole 
topic  of  popular  conversation  was  the  declaration  of  the 
overthrow  of  the  Bonaparte  dynasty.  It  seemed  as  if  that 
was  the  principal  object  of  the  elections  that  had  taken  place, 
and  that  it  was  far  more  important  than  the  establishing  of 
an  understanding  with  Germany.  The  ambitions  of  the 
different  parties  which  divided  public  opinion  in  France 
had  been  newly  awakened  at  the  unforeseen  chances  which 
they  suddenly  saw  looming  before  them.  Orleanists,  Legitimists 
and  Republicans  were  all  eager  to  come  forward  with  schemes 
to  take  the  place  of  the  regime  that  had  so  recently  come  to 
a  tragic  close.  I  remember  that  one  evening  after  dinner 
I  was  sitting  together  with  some  friends  in  one  of  the  most 
elegant  restaurants  of  Bordeaux,  and  we  listened  to  a  dis- 
cussion that  was  taking  place  at  the  next  table,  and  during 
which  the  chances  of  the  different  parties  that  the  country 

87 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

had  sent  to  represent  it  at  the  National  Assembly  were 
enumerated.  What  struck  me  in  this  conversation  was  that 
France  itself  was  not  even  mentioned ;  it  seemed  as  if  the 
catastrophes  that  had  accompanied  the  war  had  swept  it 
from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  had  only  left  political  parties 
and  political  convictions,  the  leaders  of  which  wanted  to  find 
some  personal  advantage  out  of  the  general  disasters.  Another 
thing  I  also  observed  that  appeared  even  then  strange  to  me, 
and  it  seems  stranger  still  to-day — it  is  that  very  few  people 
believed  the  Republic  would  be  able  to  maintain  itself.  On 
the  contrary,  they  felt  convinced  that  France  was  standing 
upon  the  threshold  of  a  Monarchist  restoration.  The  Orleans 
princes  had  a  considerable  number  of  adherents,  and  were 
made  much  of  in  certain  quarters,  where  the  courage  displayed 
by  the  Due  de  Chartres  and  the  Prince  de  Joinville,  who  had 
joined  the  Republican  armies  as  volunteers,  was  extolled 
at  every  opportunity ;  whilst  the  Legitimists  kept  hoping  that 
the  Comte  de  Chambord  would  seize  the  opportunity  and 
rally  himself  to  the  tricolour  flag,  thus  to  clear  his  path  to 
the  throne  of  his  ancestors.  The  Republicans  seemed  still 
surprised  and  dazed  by  the  unexpected  events  that  had 
raised  them  to  power,  and  did  not  believe  that  their 
party  would  succeed  in  maintaining  itself  at  the  head  of  the 
country.  I  believe  that  if  the  Orleans  princes  had  been 
generous  enough  to  forgo  the  millions  that  had  been  confis- 
cated under  Napoleon  III.,  and  which  they  hastened  to  claim 
from  the  State,  they  would  have  been  able  easily  to  provoke 
a  manifestation  in  their  favour  that  would  eventually  have 
led  to  a  restoration  of  their  dynasty.  The  government  was 
thoroughly  discredited,  in  spite  of  the  great  influence  wielded 
by  Leon  Gambetta,  in  whom  everyone  saw  the  man  of  the 
future,  and  it  was  generally  felt  that  it  would  not  be  strong 
enough  to  compel  the  country  to  accept  the  heavy  peace 

88 


The  Commune 

conditions  which  Germany  was  determined  to  enforce.  Un- 
fortunately, among  all  the  representatives  of  the  nation  who 
met  at  Bordeaux,  there  was  not  a  man  daring  enough,  and 
brave  enough,  to  suggest  the  recall  of  any  of  the  pretenders. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Bonapartes  had  still  a  considerable 
number  of  partisans,  who  did  their  best  to  paralyse  every 
effort  to  substitute  another  dynasty.  They  hoped  that,  in 
spite  of  Sedan,  France  would  remember  the  eighteen  years  of 
prosperity  which  it  had  just  gone  through,  and  would  recall 
the  child  who  had  been  so  popular,  under  the  name  of  "  le 
petit  Prince,"  until  the  catastrophe  that  had  sent  him  together 
with  his  parents  in  exile  on  British  shores. 

The  only  one  who  appreciated  rightly  the  intricacies  of  the 
situation  such  as  it  presented  itself,  and  who  very  cleverly  played 
his  cards,  in  such  a  manner  that  he  made  himself  indispensable, 
was  M.  Thiers.  He  flattered  everybody,  promised  everything 
that  was  required  of  him,  gave  every  pledge  that  he  was 
asked  for,  and  finally  secured  his  own  unanimous  election  at 
Bordeaux,  by  the  National  Assembly,  as  chief  of  the  executive 
power — one  did  not  dare  yet  to  use  the  term  President  of  the 
French  Republic. 

The  new  head  of  the  government  very  soon  made  himself 
the  master  of  the  situation,  and  his  influence  became  in  a 
short  time  paramount  in  everything.  He  rapidly  brought 
to  a  close  the  peace  negotiations  with  Germany,  and  on 
the  26th  of  February  its  preliminaries  were  signed  at 
Versailles. 

M.  Thiers  returned  to  Paris,  determined  to  settle  down 
to  the  task  of  mending  the  many  sores  and  wounds  which 
the  months  that  had  just  elapsed  had  left  behind  them. 
Unhappily  he  found  himself  confronted  by  a  situation  far  more 
dangerous  than  he  had  expected,  owing  to  the  want  of  fore- 
sight of  Jules  Favre,  who  had  not  had  the  courage  to  resist 

89 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  foolish  demands  of  the  mob,  and  who,  obeying  the  orders 
which  he  had  received  from  the  leaders  of  the  extreme  Radical 
party,  had  during  the  peace  negotiations  with  Prince  Bis- 
marck insisted  upon  the  Parisian  population  being  allowed 
to  retain  their  rifles,  and  the  National  Guards  not  being 
disarmed.  In  a  curious  book  called  "  Journal  d'un  Officier 
d'Ordonnance,"  an  aide-de-camp  of  General  Trochu,  Comte 
d'Herisson,  relates  that  Bismarck  replied  to  these  demands 
with  the  prophetic  words :  "I  am  willing  to  accede  to  your 
request,  but  believe  me  you  are  acting  stupidly." 

Stupidity  or  not,  the  National  Guard  was  left  in  possession 
of  its  weapons,  and  the  first  thought  of  M.  Thiers  when  he 
reached  Paris  was  to  take  them  away.  But  this  was  not  so 
easy ;  the  National  Guard  was  for  the  greater  part  com- 
posed of  excitable  men  who  dreamed  only  of  the  sovereignty 
of  the  mob.  When  the  hour  for  laying  down  their  arms 
arrived,  the  Guard  refused  to  do  so,  and  the  rebellious  feelings 
which  had  been  brewing  ever  since  the  revolution  of  the 
4th  of  September  broke  out  at  last  into  a  fury  that  culminated 
in  the  brutal  assassination  of  two  generals,  Clement  Thomas 
and  Lecomte,  who  had  been  sent  by  the  government  to  dis- 
arm the  National  Guard. 

Much  has  been  written  about  the  day  which  saw  the 
beginning  of  the  Commune ;  I  will  merely  add  a  few  quite 
personal  remarks,  which,  perhaps,  will  make  the  reader 
understand  more  clearly  than  a  long  narrative  the  state 
of  mind  of  the  Parisian  population  at  that  particular 
moment. 

The  insurrection  of  the  i8th  of  March  had  come  quite 
unawares  upon  the  authorities,  who  had  neither  foreseen 
it  nor  attempted  to  crush  it,  which  would  have  been  easier 
than  generally  believed,  but  unfortunately  everybody  seemed 
so  overpowered  by  surprise  that  the  simplest  measures  of 

90 


The  Commune 

precaution  were  disregarded,  and  what  was  at  first  but  a 
revolt  was  soon  transformed  into  a  revolution  through  the 
negligence  of  the  very  people  who  ought  to  have  been  guiltless 
of  carelessness  at  this  grave  juncture. 

This  is  not  an  historical  book,  consequently  I  am  not  going 
to  relate  the  details  of  the  flight  of  M.  Thiers  to  Versailles 
as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  revolt  of  Montmartre,  and  of  the 
assassination  of  Clement  Thomas  and  Lecomte,  but  I  am 
going  to  speak  of  what  I  myself  had  occasion  to  observe 
on  that  memorable  i8th  of  March  which  marked  the  beginning 
of  the  Commune. 

I  had  gone  out  of  my  house  on  the  morning  of  that  day, 
quite  unconscious  that  anything  like  a  revolution,  or  even 
a  mutiny,  was  in  the  air.    As  chance  would  have  it,  I  had 
the  necessity  to  go  to  Montmartre  to  see  an  old  servant  who 
had  been  in  the  army  and  was  severely  wounded  at  that  sortie 
which  Ducrot  had  attempted  just  before  Paris  capitulated. 
The  man  was  living  not  far  from  the  Rue  des  Rosiers,  which 
was  to  become  so  memorable.     When  I   reached   the   last- 
mentioned  street  I  found  it  invaded  by  a  most  threatening 
and  angry  crowd,  which  kept  howling :   "  Vive  la  Commune ! 
Vive  la  revolution  sociale !  "     Realising  that  matters  were 
getting  dangerous,   I  hastily  retraced  my  steps,  and  hoped 
that  I  should  succeed  in  escaping  the  attention  of  the  mob, 
when   one    of    the   National   Guard  stopped  me   and  asked 
what  I  was  seeking  and  why  I  had  come  there.      He  would 
not  listen  to  my  explanations,   and   suddenly  said :     "  Toi 
tu  me  fais  Peffet  d'etre  un  Prussien,  montres  done  tes  papiers  " 
("You  look  like  a  Prussian,  just  show  me  your  papers"). 
When  I  said  I  had  not  got  them  about  me,  he  took  me  by 
the  arm  and  said  :    "  Toi,  mon  gar?on,  tu  iras  t'expliquer  au 

poste,  allons,  marche  en  avant,  ou   sinon "    ("Now,  my 

lad,   you  will  go  and    explain  yourself  at  the  guardhouse, 

91 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

march,  or  else ")     He  showed  me  his  rifle.     Seeing  that 

things  were  getting  serious,  I  told  my  tormentor  that  if  he 
wanted  to  be  reassured  as  to  my  identity,  he  had  better 
take  me  to  the  mayor  of  the  I2th  arrondissement,  M. 
Gemenceau,  who  knew  me  personally  and  could  vouch  that 
I  was  not  a  Prussian  spy,  which  he  was  taking  me  for. 
The  man  looked  at  me  sharply,  and  then  said  :  "  Clemenceau, 
Clemenceau,  mais  avec  celui  la  on  ne  sait  jamais  ce  qu'il 
va  faire,  ce  n'est  pas  un  pur  "  ("  Clemenceau,  Clemenceau, 
one  never  knows  what  he  is  up  to,  he  isn't  straight").  I 
have  never  forgotten  this  remark,  which  perhaps  explains 
better  than  anything  else  the  strange  attitude  of  M.  Clemenceau 
on  that  day,  and  the  timidity  which  he  displayed.  He  has, 
I  know  but  too  well,  been  bitterly  accused  of  having  witnessed, 
without  trying  to  save  them,  the  execution  of  the  two  un- 
fortunate generals.  In  justice  to  him,  I  must  say,  first  of  all, 
that  he  arrived  upon  the  scene  when  the  executions  were 
already  over,  and  secondly,  that  his  efforts  would  have 
probably  been  quite  useless,  as  at  that  time  he  was  him- 
self held  in  suspicion  by  the  leaders  of  the  rebellious 
movement. 

I  do  not  know  how  my  adventure  would  have  ended  if 
by  chance  one  of  the  National  Guard  gathered  on  the  spot 
had  not  recognised  me  as  a  foreign  diplomat.  Formerly 
he  had  been  a  butler  at  the  Russian  Embassy,  and  of  course 
had  seen  me  there.  It  is  to  his  intervention  that  I  owed  my 
liberty,  which  without  him  would  probably  have  been 
difficult  to  obtain.  He  further  gave  me  an  escort,  to  whom 
he  gave  orders  to  take  me  safely  back  to  my  own  house, 
which,  however,  they  did  not  do,  much  to  my  joy  ;  they  left 
me  in  the  Rue  Lafayette,  where  probably  they  thought  it 
was  not  safe  for  them  to  venture,  owing  to  their  torn  and 
dirty  clothes  and  the  loaded  rifles  which  they  carried.  I 

92 


The  Commune 

made  my  way  on  to  the  boulevards  and  met  at  once  some  friends, 
to  whom  I  expressed  my  apprehensions  that  the  revolutionary 
movement  which  had  broken  out  would  prove  much  more 
serious  than  those  of  a  like  nature  that  had  taken  place  on 
the  3 ist  of  October  and  the  22nd  of  January  preceding.  We 
were  still  talking  when  we  were  joined  by  General  d'Abzac, 
one  of  the  aides-de-camp  of  Marshal  MacMahon,  of  whom 
I  shall  have  more  to  say  by  and  by.  He  told  us  that  M. 
Thiers  had  either  left  or  was  leaving  for  Versailles,  where  it 
was  intended  to  remove  the  seat  of  government. 

No  one  understood  why  this  decision  had  been  taken,  and 
especially  taken  with  such  haste.  I  was  afterwards  assured, 
by  a  person  who  was  in  a  position  to  be  well  informed,  that 
one  of  the  reasons  which  had  induced  M.  Thiers'  precipitancy 
was  that  he  believed  he  would  with  greater  facility  be  able 
to  disarm  the  population  of  Paris  if  he  could  excuse  this 
measure  by  the  dread  of  a  revolution  breaking  out,  if  it  were 
not  resorted  to  at  once. 

Nevertheless  the  revolution  did  break  out,  and  for  once 
the  government  found  itself  utterly  unable  to  crush  it.  There 
was  no  army,  and,  what  was  worse,  there  were  no  leaders. 
The  troops  taken  captive  at  Sedan  and  at  Metz  were  only 
just  returning,  and  it  was  to  be  dreaded  that,  very  justly 
infuriated  against  their  former  generals  and  commanders, 
they  would  not  feel  disposed  to  listen  to  them  or  to  follow 
them,  especially  if  they  were  ordered  to  fight  against  their 
fellow  men,  and  this,  furthermore,  in  presence  almost 
of  the  enemy  who  had  not  yet  left  Versailles  or  its  neigh- 
bourhood. 

I  left  Paris  at  the  end  of  March,  indeed  I  was  one  of 
the  last  of  the  diplomatic  corps  to  go  away.  I  went  to 
Versailles,  as  everybody  else  did,  and  happened  to  be  present 
at  the  first  review  held  by  MacMahon  of  the  troops  that  had 

93 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

just  returned  from  their  German  captivity.  This  review  had 
been  rather  dreaded,  because  it  was  uncertain  how  the  soldiers 
would  receive  the  unfortunate  chief,  to  whose  military  mis- 
takes they  owed  their  misfortunes.  Nevertheless  the  ceremony 
went  off  comparatively  well,  though  the  troops  preserved 
an  absolute  silence  and  did  not  greet  their  former  commander 
either  with  enthusiasm  or  with  disapproval.  Afterwards  I  had 
occasion  to  ask  an  officer  how  it  was  that  this  review 
had  taken  place  without  the  slightest  manifestation  of  any 
kind.  He  replied  to  me  that  the  soldiers  did  not  want  to 
give  way  to  their  feelings  in  presence,  as  it  were,  of  the  enemy, 
and  that  it  had  been  very  wise  to  hold  this  first  meeting 
between  them  and  MacMahon  under  circumstances  that  ex- 
cluded the  possibility  of  any  attempt  to  make  him  aware 
of  the  angry  feelings  which  were  entertained  in  regard  to 
him  by  the  troops  whom  he  had  led  to  defeat  and  to  a 
shameful  surrender. 

During  the  two  months  which  I  spent  in  Versailles,  until 
the  end  of  the  Commune,  I  found  many  opportunities  of 
talking  with  leading  French  politicians  gathered  there,  as 
to  the  future  prospects  of  the  country.  They  were  unani- 
mous in  maintaining  that  the  Republic  would  not  be  able 
to  hold  out  very  long,  and  that  a  monarchical  restoration 
was  imminent.  Some  went  even  so  far  as  to  believe  that 
the  Empire  still  had  many  partisans,  and  that,  provided 
Napoleon  III.  himself  consented  to  give  up  his  rights  and 
pretensions  to  his  son,  the  Bonapartes  might  still  reascend 
the  throne.  They  had  kept  their  popularity  among  the  working 
classes,  who  undoubtedly  had  reaped  great  advantages  from 
the  solicitude  concerning  their  welfare  which  the  Emperor 
had  exercised  on  their  behalf  ever  since  he  became  the  Head 
of  the  State.  Whatever  may  be  said  now,  the  idea  of  a  Republic 
becoming  permanent  was  not  then  congenial  to  the  mass  of 

94 


The  Commune 

the  nation,  who  felt  more  in  unison  with  a  Sovereign,  no 
matter  who  that  Sovereign  might  be.  The  only  one  who 
saw  clearly  the  future  was  M.  Thiers,  who,  in  one  of  his  con- 
versations with  an  intimate  friend,  forgot  himself  so  far  as 
to  say  that  "  The  Republic  has  long  years  of  life  before  it 
this  time."  He  did  not  add  that  he  thought  so  because  he 
was  himself  at  its  head. 

I  do  not  think  that  any  nightmare  can  be  more  awful 
than  the  last  four  days  which  preceded  the  entry  of  the  troops 
of  Versailles  into  Paris.  I  will  only  mention  briefly  the  assas- 
sination of  the  Archbishop,  Monsignor  Darboy,  together  with 
other  victims,  and  the  desperate  resistance  which  was  offered 
on  the  heights  of  Pere-la-Chaise  to  the  army  of  M.  Thiers 
by  the  remaining  Communards,  who  had  fled  there  for  safety, 
the  interior  of  Paris  no  longer  offering  asylum  to  them.  All 
these  things  are  matters  of  history,  but,  to  the  stranger  who 
had  seen  the  capital  in  all  its  glory  during  the  last  years  of  the 
Empire,  it  seemed  that  the  effect  of  the  cataclysm  which  had 
taken  place  would  never  be  erased,  nor  the  gay  city  ever 
recover  the  appearance  of  peace  and  prosperity  it  had  enjoyed 
before  the  horrors  of  the  Commune  had  occurred.  There 
was  something  too  sinister  for  words  in  the  sight  of  the  ruins 
which  greeted  the  troops  of  Versailles  when  at  last  they 
occupied  the  town.  The  sight  of  the  destroyed  Tuileries 
and  the  burned  streets,  which  testified  to  the  horrors  which 
they  had  witnessed,  appeared  as  things  almost  too  terrible 
to  be  true. 

But,  even  in  those  days  of  terror,  the  indifference  of  the 
French  people  to  everything  that  did  not  personally  concern 
them,  could  not  fail  to  strike  one.  As  soon  as  order  was  more 
or  less  restored,  life  began  as  usual,  and  the  only  lamentations 
which  one  heard  were  directed  towards  individual  misfortunes 
and  losses,  rather  than  towards  the  misfortunes  of  the  nation, 

9S 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  prestige  which  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  humiliations 
that  had  been  endured.  Having  one  day  the  opportunity  of 
discussing  with  a  tradesman  in  my  neighbourhood  the  sad 
and  terrible  events  which  had  occurred,  I  asked  him  whether 
the  change  of  government  had  affected  commerce  and 
industry,  and  I  was  very  much  surprised  to  hear  him 
reply  that  it  had  not,  because  the  Germans  had  spent 
so  much  money  that  one  had  not  been  able  to  perceive 
any  difference.  When  I  expressed  my  wonder  that  France 
had  accepted  their  money  with  the  satisfaction  which  he  seemed 
to  feel,  he  simply  remarked  that  "  C'est  bien  egal  a  qui  nous 
vendons  nos  pommes  de  terre  ;  1'important  c'est  de  les  vendre, 
et  nous  en  avons  vendu  bien  plus  pendant  1'annee  qui  vient  de 
s'ecouler  que  nous  ne  1'avions  jamais  fait  auparavant " 
("  It  is  quite  indifferent  to  whom  we  sell  our  potatoes  ;  the 
only  important  thing  is  to  sell  them,  and  we  have  sold  ever 
so  many  more  during  the  last  year  than  we  had  ever  done 
before"). 

In  fact,  satisfaction  at  the  profits  which  private  people 
had  derived  from  German  occupation  had  quite  taken  the 
upper  hand  of  the  sorrow  the  nation  felt  at  the  misfortunes 
that  had  fallen  upon  her. 

This  statement  of  mine  will  probably  be  questioned  far 
and  wide,  but  I  shall  always  maintain  it,  in  spite  of  any 
denials  it  may  meet  with.  Patriotism  with  Frenchmen  is 
mostly  a  question  of  words ;  it  rarely  goes  beyond  phrases, 
full  of  enthusiasm  but  devoid  of  real  meaning.  The  country 
is  essentially  egoistical,  and  it  is  perhaps  for  that  very  reason 
that  it  has  not  only  survived  its  disasters,  but  has  emerged 
from  them  far  more  prosperous,  in  the  material  sense  of  the 
word  only,  than  before  the  Germans  overran  the  fair  land 
of  France. 

One  of  the  painful  sights,  in  the  days  which  followed  imme- 

96 


The  Commune 

diately  upon  the  occupation  of  Paris  by  the  troops  of  Versailles, 
was  the  ferocious  way  in  which  the  members  of  the  Commune 
were  hunted  and  executed.  Awful  scenes,  in  which  private 
vengeances  played  a  part  perhaps  even  more  important  than 
public  reasons,  were  enacted.  The  work  of  repression  was  a 
terrible  one  in  the  worst  sense  of  the  word,  and  the  wanton 
cruelty  which  accompanied  it  will  ever  remain  a  dark  page  in 
the  career  of  M.  Thiers  and  of  the  members  of  his  govern- 
ment. It  is  to  be  questioned  whether  it  was  indispensable, 
or  even  necessary,  to  exercise  such  utterly  ruthless  cruelty.  The 
only  explanation  that  can  be  given  for  such  ferocious  tyranny 
is  that  people  in  authority  grew  frightened  and  thought  that, 
in  order  to  hide  their  fear  from  the  public,  extreme  severity 
was  best,  as  it  would  at  least  have  the  advantage  of  instilling 
dread  into  the  hearts  of  those  who  otherwise  might  have 
felt  tempted  to  follow  the  example  of  Rossel,  Raoul  Rigault, 
and  others. 

When  all  was  over  and  order  restored,  M.  Thiers,  who  was 
still  residing  at  Versailles,  came  to  Paris  for  a  few  hours, 
just  to  see  for  himself  the  damage  which  his  house  in  the  Rue 
St.  Georges  had  suffered,  and  to  pay  a  brief  visit  to  the  Elysee, 
which  he  had  left  with  such  alacrity  on  the  i8th  of  March, 
as  soon  as  he  had  heard  of  the  incidents  that  had  taken  place 
at  Montmartre.  The  reason  for  this  hurried  appearance  at 
the  palace  was,  so  he  said,  to  see  whether  some  important  papers 
he  had  locked  up  in  a  safe,  in  his  study  there,  had  not  been 
seized  by  the  members  of  the  Commune.  As  luck  would  have 
it,  no  one  had  discovered  them,  and  the  First  President  of 
the  Third  Republic  was  able  to  regain  possession  of  his 
property. 

A  friend  of  his,  to  whom  he  mentioned  the  incident,  asked 
him  of  what  nature  were  those  papers  about  which  he  had 
been  so  anxious  during  the  whole  of  the  two  months_the 
H  97 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Commune  had  lasted.  M.  Thiers  smiled,  and  replied  simply  : 
"  They  were  not  of  any  particular  importance,  but  that  was 
just  the  reason  why  I  was  afraid  that  the  Commune  should 
get  hold  of  them.  I  had  told  everybody  that  they  were  of  a 
most  compromising  nature  for  some  of  the  people  actually  in 
power,  and  for  the  pretenders  to  the  crown  of  this  country. 
Imagine  how  compromised  /  would  have  been  had  it  been 
found  out  that  they  were  merely  tradesmen's  bills  1  " 


98 


CHAPTER   IX 
M.  THIERS 

I  HAD  had  many  opportunities  of  meeting  M.  Thiers  during 
the  last  years  of  the  Empire.  I  had  known  him  even  before 
I  came  to  Paris  in  an  official  capacity,  had  often  seen  him 
at  the  houses  of  some  mutual  friends,  and  we  came  to  know 
each  other  very  well.  He  was  one  of  the  cleverest,  nicest 
little  men  in  the  world,  and  even  among  the  many  interesting 
people  who  abounded  in  France  at  that  time,  he  stood  out 
conspicuously  as  one  of  the  pleasantest.  He  had  many 
enemies,  which  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  one  takes  into 
consideration  the  vivacity  which  he  always  displayed  in  his 
likes  and  dislikes,  and  the  bitterness,  or  rather  the  caustic 
tendencies,  of  his  tongue.  But  friends  and  foes  alike  were 
loud  in  their  praise  of  his  intelligence,  and  especially  of  his 
wit.  I  am  not  talking  of  his  moral  character,  which  was 
discussed  in  many  ways  and  which  in  part  justified  the 
attacks  that  were  levelled  against  it.  The  Legitimists  could 
not  forgive  him  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  arrest  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Berry,  nor  the  attitude  of  the  ministry  of  which 
he  was  a  member  with  regard  to  that  unfortunate  Princess 
whose  frailties  were  so  mercilessly  displayed  before  the  public 
before  the  end  of  her  captivity  in  the  fortress  of  Blaye.  The 
Orleanists  also  did  not  care  for  him,  in  spite  of  the  pledge 
which  he  had  given  to  their  party ;  but  Louis  Philippe  per- 
sonally was  fond  of  him,  perhaps  because  their  tastes  were  very 
much  alike,  and  because  the  sternness  and  austerity  of  Guizot, 

99 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

his  great  opponent,  had  never  appealed  to  the  heart  of  the 
King,  who  stood  rather  in  awe  of  that  imposing  figure  in  modern 
French  political  life.  The  bonhomie  of  Thiers,  his  easy- 
going manners,  were  more  in  accordance  with  the  homely 
attitude  which  at  that  time  distinguished  the  Orleans  family 
circle.  As  Montalembert  once  said  very  wittily  :  "  Thiers, 
c'est  le  ministre  bourgeois  d'une  dynastie  bourgeoise." 

And  the  remark  contained  a  great  deal  of  truth,  though 
it  is  much  to  be  doubted  whether  the  brilliant  Catholic 
leader  appreciated  at  their  real  worth  the  sterling  qualities 
which  M.  Thiers  was  hiding  under  the  sometimes  frivolous 
manner  in  which  he  treated  serious  subjects. 

As  a  writer  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  of  his  epoch,  and 
his  work  on  the  Consulate  and  the  First  Empire  will  always 
rank  among  the  classics.  Few  people  have  understood  so  well 
as  he  did  the  gigantic  figure  of  the  first  Napoleon,  and  cer- 
tainly his  knowledge  of  history,  the  wonderful  way  in  which 
he  remembered  its  lessons,  and  knew  how  to  apply  them 
where  it  became  necessary,  constituted  a  unique  thing  even 
in  France,  where  at  that  time  there  was  a  superabundance 
of  clever  writers  and  great  thinkers,  of  whom  he  was  one  of 
the  foremost. 

Some  enemies  of  M.  Thiers  assured  me  that  he  would  have 
done  better  to  confine  himself  to  his  historical  studies,  and 
that  it  was  a  mistake  on  his  part  to  throw  himself  into  the 
struggles  of  a  political  career.  I  do  not  share  this  opinion 
personally,  because  the  very  nature  of  Thiers  would  have 
protested  against  a  life  spent  only  in  thinking  without  the 
emulation  of  doing.  He  was  essentially  a  great  patriot, 
far  greater  than  the  general  public  supposed,  and  if  he  had 
personal  ambitions,  which  cannot  be  denied,  it  must  also 
be  admitted  that  in  the  great  moments  of  crisis  through 
which  his  country  passed  during  his  lifetime,  he  never  hesitated 

100 


M.  Thiers 

to  put  all  his  strength,  all  his  experience,  and  all  his  knowledge 
of  public  affairs,  as  well  as  his  influence  at  home  and  abroad, 
at  her  service,  sparing  neither  time  nor  trouble,  nor  energy, 
in  his  endeavours  to  help  her. 

During  the  whole  reign  of  Louis  Philippe,  M.  Thiers  was 
a  conspicuous  figure  in  Paris  society,  and,  strange  to  relate, 
this  petit  bourgeois  had  succeeded  in  entering  the  most  ex- 
clusive circles  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  and  contrived 
to  install  himself  in  the  favours  of  its  leaders,  masculine  as 
well  as  feminine.  He  was  essentially  the  type  of  a  middle- 
class  man,  in  spite  of  the  high  offices  which  he  had  held,  and 
never  could  rid  himself  of  the  habit  of  tying  a  napkin  round 
his  neck  at  meals,  when  he  was  in  his  family  circle,  neither 
would  he  go  out  without  the  umbrella  that  remained  the  dis- 
tinctive sign  of  that  epoch  still  known  as  the  "  epoque  de 
Louis  Philippe,"  where  the  bourgeoisie  reigned  supreme, 
and  where  the  Sovereign  tried  by  all  means  to  win  for  himself 
the  sympathies  of  the  mob  by  coming  down  to  its  level. 

M.  Thiers  did  not  care  for  the  mob.  He  was  of  an  auto- 
cratic character,  and  of  an  imperious  disposition,  admitting 
no  sovereignty  apart  from  his  own.  But,  nevertheless,  he 
remained  the  child  of  his  generation  and  of  his  class.  He 
rose,  but  neither  by  adapting  himself  to  circumstances, 
nor  to  the  conditions  of  existence  around  him.  Original 
he  was  in  mind,  in  intelligence  and  in  manners,  and  he  did 
not  change  ;  he  always  appeared  to  his  friends  as  a  man  of 
happy  disposition  tempered  with  affability,  and  tinged  with 
familiarity;  his  distinctive  characteristic  from  the  very  first 
days  he  entered  public  life. 

Thiers  was  essentially  "  un  homme  d' opposition,"  as 
one  of  his  enemies  once  remarked,  but  he  was  a  statesman 
of  a  type  such  as  is  no  longer  found  nowadays ;  an  active, 
busy,  little  individual,  always  on  the  look  out  for  his  adver- 

101 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

saries'  mistakes,  and  terrible  in  the  merciless  way  in  which 
he  noticed  them — and,  what  is  worse,  made  others  notice  them. 
He  had  but  little  pity  in  his  heart  for  the  errors  of  mankind, 
but  was  wise  enough  not  to  show  the  disdain  in  which  he 
held  it.  He  had  been  at  a  good  school,  had  frequented  the 
salon  of  Talleyrand,  and  studied  politics  by  contact  with  the 
politicians  who  had  ranked  among  the  foremost  in  Europe. 
He  used  to  relate  a  funny  little  anecdote  from  his  early  days, 
when  he  had  been  introduced  to  Prince  Metternich,  during 
one  of  his  journeys  to  Vienna,  whither  he  had  repaired  to 
study  certain  episodes  of  the  history  of  Napoleon,  and  examine 
certain  documents  deposited  in  the  Imperial  Archives  of  the 
Burg.  The  statesman  to  whose  intrigues  the  great  Emperor 
had  in  part  been  indebted  for  his  fall  received  Thiers  in  his 
study,  and  it  seems  received  him  very  badly.  But  the  little 
Frenchman,  far  from  appearing  to  notice  it,  began  at  once 
to  talk  with  the  Austrian  Chancellor  as  if  he  had  known  him 
for  years,  and  did  not  scruple  to  question  him  on  the  subjects 
about  which  he  desired  to  learn,  a  thing  which  Metternich, 
who  liked  above  all  things  to  hear  himself  speak,  particularly 
disliked.  Surprised  at  first,  then  slightly  bored,  the  Prince 
told  Thiers  that  he  had  better  question  the  Director  of  the 
Archives  about  the  various  points  he  desired  to  clear  up,  to 
which  the  historian  of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire  replied 
quite  brusquely  that  this  personage  could  not  tell  him  anything 
worth  listening  to,  and  that  he  never  took  lessons  in  history 
from  those  who  had  only  read  it.  Metternich,  more  and  more 
astonished,  asked  him  what  he  meant.  "  Oh,  nothing  very 
important,"  was  the  answer ;  "  seulement  je  crois  que  personne 
ne  pourrait  mieux  me  renseigner  sur  Napoleon  que  vous  qui 
etes  parvenu  a  le  tromper  si  completement  et  si  sou  vent " 
("  I  merely  think  no  one  should  be  better  able  to  give  me 
information  about  Napoleon  than  yourself,  who  succeeded  in 

102 


M.  Thiers 

deceiving  him  so  completely  and  so  frequently,").  When 
Thiers  told  this  anecdote  he  never  failed  to  add  that 
"  Metternich  ne  trouva  rien  d'autre  a  me  repondre  que  de 
sourire  avec  la  remarque :  '  Vous  connaissez  bien  votre  histoire, 
jeune  homme ' "  ("  Metternich  in  reply  could  do  nothing  but 
smile,  accompanying  it  with  the  remark:  'You  are  well  up 
in  your  history,  young  man'"). 

Impudence,  as  one  can  see  from  the  above,  was  not 
wanting  in  the  character  of  the  future  President  of  the  French 
Republic,  and  this  impudence  never  deserted  him  in  later 
years.  It  has  been  said  that  his  vanity  was  intense,  and 
that  there  was  some  truth  in  this  accusation  cannot  be  denied  ; 
but  beneath  this  vanity  there  lay  the  latent  consciousness  the 
man  had  of  his  own  moral  and  intellectual  worth,  and  of  the 
immense  distance  that  existed  between  him  and  the  other 
men  of  his  generation.  He  tried  to  impose  his  ideas  on  others  ; 
he  was  despotic  in  his  decisions,  his  judgments  and  his  opinions, 
but  he  was  not  devoid  of  impartiality,  and  he  was  very  well 
aware  of  his  own  faults.  He  loved  France  with  a  sincere 
affection,  which  saw  through  her  faults,  and  there  was  no 
chauvinism  in  his  feelings.  He  would  have  liked  to  see  his 
fatherland  prosperous  and  powerful,  but  he  never  rushed  into 
extremes  as  Frenchmen  are  so  often  inclined.  Whilst  he  was 
the  responsible  minister  of  the  dynasty  of  July,  he  served 
it  faithfully  and  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  and  though  he  has 
been  often  accused  of  opportunism,  yet  he  never  would  accept 
office  under  the  Bonapartes,  though,  and  this  is  rather  curious, 
he  always  was  of  opinion  that  their  dynasty  was  the  most 
popular  one  among  all  those  that  aspired  to  the  government 
of  France. 

When,  together  with  the  other  members  of  the  Legislative 
Chamber,  he  was  imprisoned  by  the  President  on  the  day 
of  the  coup  d'etat  of  the  2nd  of  December,  he  is  said  to  have 

103 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

made  the  following  typical  remark :  "  Le  President  nous 
fait  enfermer,  c'est  son  droit ;  esperons  pour  lui,  qu'il  saura 
en  profiter,  et  ne  donnera  pas  dans  le  travers  de  vouloir 
gouvemer  constitutionnellement.  II  ne  peut  pas  avoir  de 
Constitution  pour  les  Bonaparte,  tout  au  plus  peuvent  ils 
pretendre  a  ce  que  leur  regne  soit  celui  ou  on  parle  de  Con- 
stitution comme  les  malades  parlent  des  mets  que  leurs 
medecins  leur  interdisent  de  manger "  ("  The  President  is 
having  us  shut  up,  it  is  his  right;  let  us  hope  for  his  own 
sake  that  he  will  know  how  to  profit  by  it,  and  will  not  make 
the  mistake  of  wanting  to  govern  constitutionally.  There  can 
be  no  constitutional  government  for  the  Bonapartes.  The 
utmost  they  can  lay  claim  to  is  that  during  their  reign  the 
Constitution  should  be  spoken  of  in  the  tone  in  which  invalids 
speak  of  dishes  that  their  doctors  forbid  them  to  eat  "). 

During  the  eighteen  years  that  the  Empire  lasted,  Thiers 
always  refused  to  take  office,  though  he  owned  later  on  that 
he  felt  once  or  twice  sorely  tempted  to  do  so.  But  he  realised 
that  the  regime  could  not  last,  and  reserved  himself  for  the 
moment  when  it  would  be  overturned,  feeling  convinced 
in  his  mind  that  that  day  would  be  also  that  of  his  own  personal 
triumph,  and  that  whether  the  country  liked  it  or  not  it 
would  be  compelled  to  turn  to  him  for  advice  and  for  help. 

When  after  the  first  defeats  which  characterised  the  war 
of  1870,  the  Empress  Eugenie  felt  inclined  to  appeal  to  him 
to  help  her,  and  had  him  sounded  by  one  of  her  friends 
who  was  on  terms  of  close  intimacy  with  him,  M.  Thiers 
replied  that  it  was  either  too  late  or  too  early  for  him  to  do 
anything,  and  that  as  matters  stood,  the  best  thing  to  do 
was  to  allow  events  to  take  their  course.  "  But  the  dynasty," 
said  his  visitor ;  "  are  you  going  to  allow  the  dynasty  to  fall 
like  that  ?  " 

"  If  the  dynasty  were  wise,  I  certainly  would  do  my  best 

104 


M.  Thiers 

to  support  it,"  was  the  unexpected  reply ;  "  but  the  dynasty 
will  not  be  wise  ;  it  will  never  have  the  common  sense  to 
bring  itself  to  conclude  peace  just  now,  and  to  enforce  the 
conditions  of  that  peace,  even  by  measures  of  violence  against 
those  who  would  undoubtedly  oppose  it.  If  I  thought  the 
Regent  was  strong  enough  and  firm  enough  to  arrest  half 
the  members  of  the  Corps  Legislatif,  and  to  send  the  other 
half  back  to  their  own  firesides  to  meditate  on  the  wisdom  of 
a  useless  opposition,  if  she  would  make  up  her  mind  to  govern 
for  a  time  without  the  Chambers,  then  I  would  at  once  accept 
office  ;  but  she  will  never  have  the  courage  to  take  such  a 
responsibility  before  the  country,  and  therefore  I  cannot  do 
anything  for  her.  There  are  moments  in  the  life  of  nations 
when  it  is  indispensable  for  their  welfare  that  those  who 
govern  them  should  feel  no  hesitation  in  resorting  to  violence, 
and  France  just  now  has  reached  such  a  moment.  It  is  a 
thousand  pities  that  the  Regent  or  the  Emperor  fails  to  see 
it  is  the  case.  Under  such  circumstances  my  help  would 
be  useless  to  them,  and  it  might  compromise  my  own  future 
prospects." 

This  conversation  gives  a  very  good  insight  into  the  character 
of  M.  Thiers.  It  also  accounts  in  part  for  the  ruthlessness 
which  he  displayed  in  the  crushing  of  the  Commune  a  few 
months  later. 

Apropos  of  this,  a  few  weeks  before  his  death,  I  had  the 
opportunity  of  talking  to  him  about  it  at  St.  Germain,  whither 
he  had  repaired  to  spend  the  summer,  and  where  he  was 
preparing  himself  for  the  struggle  of  the  coming  elections, 
which  he  fondly  hoped  would  prove  fatal  to  the  government 
of  Marshal  MacMahon,  whom  he  still  expected  to  replace 
as  head  of  the  State.  Thiers  was  in  a  communicative  mood 
that  afternoon,  and  he  spoke  with  great  vivacity  of  that 
time  when  he  had  displayed  such  energy,  as  his  friends  said 

105 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

— such  brutality,  as  his  foes  maintained — in  fighting  the 
unruly  and  disorderly  elements  that  had  so  very  nearly 
destroyed  France.  On  that  occasion  he  used  these  memor- 
able words :  "I  know  that  I  have  been  severely  blamed 
for  the  orders  which  I  had  given  to  Galiffet,  to  show  no  mercy 
to  the  insurgents,  but,  frankly,  what  else  could  I  do  ?  We 
had  just  gone  through  an  unfortunate  war ;  the  enemy  was 
at  our  gates,  we  had  to  execute  a  most  onerous  treaty,  and 
above  all  to  clear  our  territory  from  the  invader,  who  certainly 
would  never  have  left  it,  had  he  thought  that  this  rebellion 
was  going  to  take  the  upper  hand.  We  had  the  whole  country 
to  reorganise,  and  this  under  the  most  deplorable  conditions 
that  have  ever  existed  in  the  life  of  a  nation.  We  were 
without  an  army,  without  any  regular  government,  and  had 
to  fight  the  many  ambitions  of  those  who  thought  to  seek 
their  own  advantage  out  of  the  general  ruin.  The  first  thing 
to  do  was  to  strike  fear  into  the  hearts  of  those  who  already 
thought  that  they  could  bring  their  own  party  to  the  head 
of  affairs  and  thus  add  something  to  the  general  confusion. 
Don't  forget  that  in  order  to  oblige  the  Prussians  to  recognise 
that  we  were  strong  enough  to  rule  France,  and  to  rule  it  well, 
we  had  not  only  to  assert  ourselves,  but  also  to  drive  out  of 
the  minds  of  all  our  opponents,  and  of  these  there  were  legions, 
the  idea  that  we  had  not  got  power  enough  on  our  side. 

"  You  tell  me  that  the  Commune  might  easily  have 
been  subdued  on  that  eventful  and  fatal  i8th  of  March. 
This  perhaps  is  true,  because  it  did  not  even  exist  at  that 
time,  and  we  were  face  to  face  with  a  simple  insurrection,  not 
with  a  revolution.  But  would  it  have  been  wise  ?  I  don't 
think  so.  Had  we  not  acted  as  if  we  were  in  presence  of  a 
real  and  earnest  danger,  had  I  not  retired  to  Versailles  in  a 
hurry  as  I  did,  the  mutiny  of  the  i8th  of  March  would  have 
repeated  itself  a  few  months  later,  and  this  sort  of  thing 

106 


M.  Thiers 

would  have  gone  on  continually.  The  government  would 
have  been  weakened  quite  uselessly,  and  the  prestige  of 
France  fallen  a  little  lower  than  was  the  case  already.  A 
revolution  is  an  incident,  perhaps  sad  and  bloody,  but  an 
incident  all  the  same  ;  whereas  continual  rebellions  mean 
the  demoralisation  of  a  nation. 

"  I  knew  that  France  was  demoralised  in  the  sense  I 
mean,  but  why  need  the  world  come  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion ?  Surely,  none  at  all.  Therefore  we  had  to  show  the 
world  that  we  were  a  strong  government,  that,  what  is 
even  more  important,  we  were  a  government,  a  fact  which 
many  people  doubted  still ;  and  that  as  such  we  were  deter- 
mined to  enforce  order,  to  enforce  it  in  the  most  determined 
manner  possible,  even  at  the  risk  of  spilling  more  blood  than 
we  would  have  cared  to  do  at  other  times.  Of  course  I  could 
not  foresee  the  excesses  to  which  the  Commune  would  resort, 
nor  the  murder  of  the  hostages,  or  the  destroying  of  half 
Paris  by  fire,  but  I  will  be  frank  with  you,  I  much  preferred 
this  to  the  consequences  which  would  have  ensued  for  the 
future  of  France,  in  an  unsettled  state  of  things  such  as  would 
have  resulted  had  the  government  of  which  I  was  the  head 
not  had  occasion  to  show  its  energy  and  its  decision  to  make 
itself  respected.  Of  course,  when  Bismarck  saw  that  we  could 
cope  with  the  situation,  that  we  did  not  require  his,  or  anyone 
else's  help,  he  gave  up  all  idea  of  making  difficulties  in  the 
execution  of  the  different  clauses  of  the  treaty  of  peace.  The 
army  also,  having  just  returned  from  its  captivity  in  Germany, 
required  something  to  divert  it  from  the  many  anxious  and 
rebellious  thoughts  it  had  had  time  to  indulge  in,  during  the 
long  months  of  its  imprisonment  in  German  fortresses.  The 
Commune  came  opportunely  to  allow  it  to  let  its  thoughts 
drift  into  another  channel. 

"  To    resume    the    main    point,    I    do    not    think   that 

107 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

more  indulgence  towards  the  rebels  would  have  helped  us 
to  regain  the  position  to  which  even  as  a  defeated  nation 
we  were  entitled.  For  these  reasons  I  do  not  regret  that  I 
enjoined  severity  to  the  troops  that  entered  Paris.  This 
severity  had  the  result  that  out  of  the  moral  ruins  left  by  the 
Empire,  and  those  material  ruins  which  resulted  from  the  fleet- 
ing victory  of  the  Commune,  rose  a  government  which  won 
for  itself  the  respect  of  Europe,  and  the  esteem  of  Germany, 
who,  seeing  what  it  was  capable  of,  gave  up  every  thought  of 
putting  difficulties  in  its  way.  No,  when  I  remember  all  that 
happened  at  that  time,  I  cannot  say  I  am  sorry  for  anything 
I  did,  or  which  was  done  under  my  responsibility.  I  may  de- 
plore it,  but  I  cannot  regret  it.  One  cannot  be  sentimental 
in  politics." 

I  wrote  down  this  conversation  in  my  diary  when  I  got 
home,  and  every  time  I  have  the  occasion  to  read  it  over 
again,  I  remember  the  vivacity  with  which  Thiers  developed 
to  me  his  ideas  on  this  important  subject,  ideas  which  I  believe 
have  never  before  been  made  known  to  the  public. 

It  is  strange  how,  with  all  his  penetration,  and  his  wonderful 
insight  into  politics,  Thiers  did  not  foresee  the  circumstances 
that  brought  about  his  own  downfall.  There  were  lacunes 
in  that  remarkable  mind,  lacunes  which  proceeded  from  his 
inordinate  vanity.  For  instance,  when  he  had  started  on 
that  journey  across  Europe,  in  order  to  implore  her  help 
during  the  Franco-German  war,  he  never  for  one  moment 
imagined  that  he  would  be  unsuccessful,  or  that  his  entreaties 
would  be  repulsed.  The  indifference  with  which  the  fate  of 
his  country  was  viewed  beyond  its  frontiers  proved  a  terrible 
blow  to  the  old  man,  who  sadly  said,  or,  rather,  repeated,  the 
famous  words  :  "  II  n'y  a  plus  d'Europe,"  when  his  last  hope, 
his  trust  in  Alexander  II.  of  Russia,  also  proved  elusive.  But 
with  his  usual  ability  he  managed  to  mask  his  defeat  under 

1 08 


M.  Thiers 

the  pretext  that  neither  Italy,  Austria,  nor  Russia  would 
have  anything  to  do  with  the  Imperial  regime,  and  that  as 
they  hadn't  been  sure  it  was  definitely  to  be  classed  among 
the  past  things  of  history,  they  had  thought  it  best  and  wisest 
to  remain  neutral,  and  not  to  interfere  with  the  course  of 
events.  Out  of  that  circumstance  Thiers  made  enough 
capital  to  ensure  his  own  election  as  head  of  the  government, 
and  once  established  at  Versailles  in  that  capacity  he  felt 
sure  that  he  would  remain  at  his  post  until  his  death. 

He  had  no  real  adversaries  worthy  of  that  name.  With 
consummate  skill  he  had  succeeded  in  entirely  discrediting  the 
Orleans  princes  by  the  willingness  with  which  he  had  helped 
them  to  get  back  their  confiscated  millions,  and  he  knew 
that  henceforward  they  had  made  themselves  impossible. 
There  was  still  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  but  in  his  case 
Thiers  had  at  his  disposal  sources  of  information  that  left 
him  no  doubt  as  to  the  attitude  that  the  latter  would  eventually 
take,  if  offered  the  crown  of  his  ancestors.  The  only  adver- 
saries he  dreaded  were,  therefore,  the  Bonapartes ;  and  this 
danger  seemed,  for  the  present,  to  have  drifted  away  by  the 
death  of  Napoleon  III.  and  the  extreme  youth  of  his  son. 

Whether  it  was  this  last  circumstance,  or  simply  that 
his  watchfulness  had  relaxed,  the  fact  remains  that  Thiers 
never  noticed  the  storm  that  was  looming  in  the  distance, 
and  threatening  him.  And  when  an  accidental  circumstance 
brought  about  his  fall,  in  quite  an  unexpected  manner,  he 
was  more  astonished  than  anyone  else  at  the  event. 

Nevertheless,  he  took  it  quite  good  humouredly,  and  with 
far  more  philosophy  than  could  have  been  expected  from 
him.  I  saw  him  a  few  days  after  it  had  occurred  and  was 
struck  with  his  indifference.  I  think  that  upon  the  whole 
he  was  glad  that  his  fall  had  taken  place  for  a  neutral  cause, 
and  that  it  had  been  his  person  that  had  been  objected  to 

109 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

rather  than  his  manner  of  conducting  the  government.  He 
hoped  that  the  future  would  avenge  him,  and  though  such 
an  old  man,  yet  he  was  making  plans  for  the  day  when  France 
would  call  him  back  to  the  head  of  affairs.  He  knew  that 
no  matter  what  his  enemies  might  say,  he  had  deserved  and 
had  earned  the  gratitude  of  his  country,  and  won  for  himself 
a  glorious  page  in  its  annals.  And  if  the  truth  be  told,  he  was 
rather  glad  to  be  once  more  in  the  ranks  of  the  opposition, 
and  thus  able  to  live  over  again  the  past  days,  when  a  word 
of  his  could  overturn  a  government.  He  devoted  all  his 
energies  to  the  struggle  which  he  fully  intended  to  initiate 
against  President  MacMahon,  whom  he  had  never  liked, 
even  when  he  had  employed  him,  and  whom  he  never  forgave 
for  having  taken  his  place.  Thiers  had  always  been  of  opinion 
that  the  Marshal's  intellectual  capacities  were  of  the  smallest 
kind,  and  that  except  honesty  of  purpose,  he  possessed  none 
of  the  qualifications  that  are  required  of  the  Head  of  a 
State.  It  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  him,  to  find  his  place 
had  been  taken  by  a  man  who  would  destroy  some  of  his  work, 
and  a  great  deal  of  his  plans.  So  he  devoted  all  his  energies 
to  prepare  the  defeat  of  the  Marshal  after  the  latter's  coup  d'etat 
of  the  i6th  of  May. 

Fate,  however,  interfered  and  carried  off  M.  Thiers  after 
an  illness  of  a  few  hours  at  St.  Germain,  where,  as  I  have 
already  related,  he  spent  the  last  summer  of  his  life.  In 
spite  of  his  advanced  age,  he  died  in  full  possession  of  his 
faculties,  and  with  his  intelligence  as  bright  and  clear  as  it 
had  ever  been.  The  emotion  provoked  by  his  death  was  con- 
siderable. The  old  man  was,  after  all,  more  popular  than 
one  had  thought,  and  the  nation  was  very  well  aware  that  in 
burying  him,  she  was  also  burying  a  great  patriot,  who  had 
been  true  to  her  in  the  hour  of  her  greatest  adversity.  I 
followed  in  his  funeral  procession,  and  as  we  were  marching 

no 


M.  Thiers 

towards  distant  Pere  la  Chaise,  I  heard  the  following  remark 
which  left  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind :  the  more  so 
that  it  was  uttered  by  a  common  workman  whom  certainly 
I  wouldn't  have  believed  to  be  capable  of  it :  "  II  avait 
des  defauts,  le  petit  homme,  mais  apr£s  tout  c'est  grace 
a  lui  que  Belfort  est  reste  francais !  "  ("He  had  his  faults, 
the  little  man;  but,  after  all,  it  is  thanks  to  him  that 
Belfort  remained  French"). 

I  think  that  Thiers  would  have  thought,  had  he  listened 
to  these  words,  that  they  constituted  the  best  recognition 
that  had  ever  been  uttered  of  his  long  life  of  service  to  the 
nation. 


in 


CHAPTER    X 
THE  COMTE  DE  CHAMBORD  AND  HIS  PARTY 

I  HAD  had  the  honour  to  be  introduced  to  the  Comte  de 
Chambord  in  Vienna,  long  before  the  fall  of  the  Empire  had 
once  more  put  him  forward  as  a  Pretender  to  the  throne 
of  France;  I  had  even  once  or  twice  been  invited  to  Frohs- 
dorf.  These  visits  always  left  me  a  sadder  if  not  a  wiser 
man.  They  were  more  like  a  pilgrimage  to  an  historical 
monument,  than  a  visit  to  a  living  man.  Everything  seemed 
dead  in  that  small,  unpretentious  house,  for  it  could  hardly 
be  called  a  castle,  in  which  the  last  direct  descendant  of 
Louis  XIV.  was  ending  his  uneventful  existence.  The  walls 
themselves  told  you  of  something  that  was  past  and  gone, 
and  the  inhabitants  of  this  living  grave  flitted  like  ghosts 
of  the  great  traditions  that  were  embodied  in  them.  Every- 
thing was  dignified,  solemn,  and  hushed.  The  rooms  were 
small,  but  full  of  great  things  and  mementoes,  from  the  large 
equestrian  portrait  of  Henri  IV.,  to  the  stately  picture  of 
Louis  XVI.,  and  the  smiling  one  of  unfortunate  Marie  An- 
toinette. Lackeys  in  the  blue  livery  of  the  House  of  France, 
met  you  at  the  door,  and  ushered  you  into  an  unpretentious 
study,  where,  sitting  at  a  table  littered  with  books  and  papers, 
the  Comte  de  Chambord  was  awaiting  his  visitors. 

He  was  a  most  charming  man,  with  grand  manners, 
and  much  stateliness,  but  one  on  whom  the  many  decep- 
tions of  his  life  had  left  their  impress,  and  aged  before  his 
time.  He  always  questioned  all  those  whom  he  was  about 

112 


The  Comte  de  Chambord 

France,  Paris,  and  everything  that  was  going  on  there,  taking 
the  liveliest  interest  in  his  country,  but  not  understanding 
it  at  all,  and  not  realising  that  the  France  of  after  the  Revo- 
lution was  no  longer  the  France  which  the  old  Bourbon 
monarch  had  ruled.  He  had  strong  principles,  earnest  con- 
victions, was  in  the  full  sense  of  the  term  a  "  chevalier  sans 
peur  et  sans  reproche,"  but  he  harboured  no  illusions  as 
to  his  possibilities  of  playing  any  part  in  the  political  life 
of  his  country.  Had  he  had  any  children  it  is  probable  that 
he  would  have  tried  to  reconcile  the  traditions  of  his  family 
with  the  requirements  of  modern  France,  but  in  presence 
of  the  fact  that  with  him  the  elder  branch  of  the  House  of 
Bourbon  was  coming  to  an  end,  he  must  have  had  the  feeling, 
though  he  never  owned  to  it  in  public,  that  there  was  no 
necessity  for  him  to  abdicate  any  part  of  the  inheritance  of 
his  ancestors,  in  order  to  benefit  the  Orleans  dynasty  who  had 
sent  his  great-uncle  to  the  scaffold,  and  had  tried  to  dishonour 
his  own  mother.  He  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  not  to 
have  received  with  politeness  the  overtures  of  his  cousins 
when  they  made  up  their  minds  to  come  and  pay  their  respects 
to  him  at  Frohsdorf ;  but  he  could  not,  and  would  not,  affect 
in  regard  to  them  a  cordiality  which  he  did  not  really  feel. 
The  Comte  de  Chambord  was  essentially  un  homme 
d'autrefois;  he  never  shirked  what  he  considered  to  be  his 
duty,  but  who  would  never  give  himself  the  appearance  of 
liking  what  he  did  not,  or  of  respecting  what  did  not  deserve 
respect.  He  had  grand  manners  that  savoured  of  hauteur, 
and  left  one  in  no  doubt  as  to  what  he  thought  or  believed. 
Life  had  been  one  long  disappointment  to  him,  which  he 
had  accepted  with  a  true  Christian  spirit,  devoid  of  the 
slightest  shade  of  rebellion,  and  he  had  picked  up  his 
burden,  and  carried  it  nobly  to  the  end.  He  died  wrapped 
in  the  folds  of  the  old  flag  which  he  had  refused  to  re- 
i  113 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

nounce,  even  when  a  crown  would  have  rewarded  him  for 
its  abandonment. 

At  Frohsdorf  he  led  the  existence  of  a  country  gentle- 
man ;  there  was  no  semblance  of  a  Pretender  about  him. 
As  he  once  said  to  a  visitor  who  very  tactlessly  had  remarked 
upon  it :  "I  am  not  a  Pretender,  and  do  not  need  give  myself 
the  appearance  of  one.  I  am  a  principal  for  those  who  see  in 
me  their  King." 

And  yet  there  was  much  that  was  kingly  in  that  quiet 
Austrian  domain,  to  which  the  Duchesse  d'Angouleme  had 
retired  towards  the  end  of  her  earthly  career,  and  which  she 
had  bequeathed  to  her  nephew.  The  big  drawing-room  where 
one  assembled  in  the  evenings  after  dinner  had  a  vague  appear- 
ance of  a  palace,  though  the  master  of  it  did  his  best  to  put  his 
visitors  at  their  ease  ;  but  the  Comtesse  de  Chambord  sitting 
in  her  big  arm-chair  by  a  round  table,  upon  which  her  needle- 
work was  laid,  or  bending  over  the  stitches  of  her  tapestry, 
looked  every  inch  a  sovereign,  in  spite  of  the  knitted  scarf 
which  she  often  tied  round  her  head,  or  the  extreme  simplicity 
of  her  black  silk  dress,  made  quite  high  to  the  throat  and 
finished  by  a  plain  white  linen  collar.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
room,  too,  was  laden  with  a  hush  and  solemnity  that 
at  once  made  one  feel  and  understand  that  one  was  not  in 
the  dwelling  of  a  common  mortal.  These  evenings  were  any- 
thing but  amusing,  though  the  Comte  did  his  best  to  keep  the 
ball  of  conversation  rolling;  but  somehow  it  was  impossible 
to  give  it  a  frivolous  turn,  or  to  drive  away  an  impression 
that  everyone  in  the  room  was  waiting  for  something,  What, 
of  course,  was  not  known ;  but  one  was  waiting,  waiting  like 
the  son  of  the  murdered  Due  de  Berry  had  been  waiting 
ever  since  his  birth,  for  the  call  of  his  country,  which  never 
came,  or  at  least  not  in  the  way  in  which  he  would  have 
cared  to  respond  to  it. 

114 


The  Comte  de  Ghambord 

A  great  deal  has  been  said  concerning  the  attempt  at  a 
monarchical  restoration  that  had  taken  place  during  the  presi- 
dency of  Marshal  MacMahon,  and  the  circumstances  which  had 
accompanied  it  have  not  been  commented  upon  in  a  manner 
favourable  to  the  Comte  de  Chambord.  I  was  in  Versailles 
at  the  time  it  occurred,  and  from  what  came  to  my  knowledge 
I  do  not  think  that  the  real  reasons  which  influenced  Henri  V., 
as  his  adherents  called  him,  have  ever  been  known  in  their 
entirety.  One  has  spoken  of  the  flag  and  of  the  reluctance 
of  the  Pretender  to  accept  the  tricolour,  but  what  has  never 
been  revealed  to  this  day  is  that  a  compromise  had  been 
suggested  by  a  clever  French  politician  who  had  been  consulted. 
Gifted  with  a  singular  gift  of  observation,  this  politician  was 
very  well  au  courant  of  the  feelings  of  the  different  parties 
which  were  represented  in  the  National  Assembly,  and  con- 
sequently he  was  in  a  position  to  give  sound  advice  to  those 
who  had  recourse  to  his  experience. 

His  compromise  was  that  the  national  flag  should  remain 
the  tricolour,  whilst  the  King  would  keep  for  his  own  personal 
emblem  the  white  cravat  of  his  ancestors,  that  alone  would 
be  borne  before  him  on  all  State  ceremonies  which  were  not 
purely  military  ones.  Strange  to  say,  the  Comte  de  Cham- 
bord had  at  first  appeared  willing  to  consent,  understanding 
well,  in  spite  of  the  prejudices  of  his  earlier  education,  that 
he  would  be  obliged  to  make  some  concessions  to  the  times 
before  he  could  hope  to  be  accepted  by  France  as  its 
legitimate  King.  But,  before  giving  his  final  adherence  to 
this  compromise,  he  wished  to  know  the  opinion  of  his  cousin, 
the  Comte  de  Paris,  and  to  learn  from  him  whether  or  not 
he  would,  when  in  due  course  he  succeeded  him,  ratify  this 
arrangement,  and  maintain  its  clauses.  The  Comte  de  Paris 
refused  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  saying  yes,  and  replied 
evasively  that  his  uncle  the  Due  d'Aumale  ought  to  be  con- 

"5 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

suited.  The  latter,  however,  declared  that  he  could  not 
advise  his  nephew,  but  that  it  would  be  difficult  in  his  opinion 
for  an  Orleans  prince  to  forget  that  the  fate  of  his  dynasty 
was  bound  up  with  that  of  the  tricolour  banner,  and  that  to 
renounce  it  even  in  part,  was  to  renounce  the  glorious  principles 
of  the  Monarchy  of  July.  This  answer,  when  it  became  known 
to  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  did  away  with  his  last  hesitation. 
Urged  by  the  strong  dynastic  feelings  that  swayed  him,  he 
might  have  made  up  his  mind  to  sacrifice  some  part  of  his 
principles  to  the  welfare  of  his  race ;  but  only  if  this  sacrifice 
would  have  been  of  some  use  to  it.  Seeing  that  it  would  only 
be  interpreted  as  a  desire  on  his  part  to  put  on  his  head  a 
crown  he  did  not  care  for,  and  which  in  his  inmost  heart 
he  did  not  think  he  had  either  the  strength  or  the  ability 
to  carry  or  to  defend,  he  gave  up  every  idea  of  winning  it  by 
means  of  a  compromise  where,  in  the  best  of  cases,  some 
of  his  own  personal  dignity  would  have  foundered ;  and 
after  a  short  stay  in  France,  he  returned  to  his  beloved  Frohs- 
dorf,  to  die  there  a  few  years  later,  the  last  of  the  Burgraves 
of  his  generation. 

I  had  occasion  to  see  him  during  the  short  stay  which 
he  made  at  Versailles  under  an  incognito  which  was  only  dis- 
covered by  a  very  few.  We  took  a  walk  together  in  the  park, 
and  along  the  alleys  of  that  garden  of  Trianon,  where  the 
young  and  frivolous  Queen,  so  brutally  murdered  by  the  bloody 
Revolution  which  she  had  neither  foreseen  nor  understood, 
had  walked  together  with  the  lovely  Lamballe  and  her  train  of 
gay  courtiers.  Everything  looked  sad,  and  deserted,  and 
abandoned  ;  it  all  spoke  of  a  dead  past,  and  of  a  departed  glory. 
Suddenly  the  Comte  de  Chambord  stopped  in  his  walk,  and 
turning  to  me  said  those  memorable  words  which  I  have 
never  forgotten :  "  What  a  pity  that  this  place  was  not 
entirely  destroyed  in  1793  !  " 

116 


The  Comte  de  Chambord 

I  looked  at  him  with  surprise. 

'  You  are  astonished  to  hear  me  say  such  a  thing,"  he 
continued,  "  but  let  me  explain  to  you  my  thoughts,  and 
you  will  understand  me  better.  Royalty,  like  so  many  other 
things,  is  a  prejudice,  at  least  for  the  masses  who  have  neither 
traditions  nor  principles.  It  represents,  or  at  least  ought  to 
represent  to  them,  something  that  is  strong,  powerful,  entirely 
above  them,  beyond  them  ;  something  sacred,  that  no  power 
save  that  of  God  may  touch  or  may  destroy.  Once 
this  feeling  concerning  it  is  gone,  half  its  prestige  is  gone  too. 
The  mob  only  respects  what  it  can  neither  harm  nor  kill. 
If  it  once  sees  that  royalty,  like  everything  else,  can  be  touched 
with  a  sacrilegious  hand,  that  it  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  first 
boy  or  man  in  the  street,  then  the  mob  not  only  loses  every 
fear,  but  also  its  veneration.  It  rejoices  to  see  that  it  has  got 
over  the  feeling  of  awe  which  formerly  inspired  it  with  regard 
to  that  superior  thing  which  ruled  it ;  it  delights  in  pulling 
it  down,  and  in  treasuring  the  remembrance  of  the  day  on 
which  it  smashed  it  to  the  ground.  Now  nothing  reminds 
one  more  of  deeds  done,  whether  good  or  bad,  than  the  spots 
where  such  deeds  were  committed. 

"  The  French  people,  when  looking  at  Versailles,  and 
walking  freely  through  the  rooms  where  Kings  formerly 
reigned,  can  always  think,  speak  of,  and  remember,  with  some- 
thing of  that  low  pride  which  a  boxer  feels  when  he  has  knocked 
his  adversary  to  the  ground,  the  time  when  they  destroyed 
the  power  which  had  ruled  them,  and  feasted  in  the  halls  of 
their  former  masters.  That  remembrance  is  most  unwhole- 
some, and  can  only  foster  rebellious  feelings  in  the  breasts 
of  those  who  treasure  it.  Had  Versailles  been  destroyed 
the  Revolution  of  course  would  not  have  been  forgotten,  but 
the  nation  would  not  always  have  had  before  its  eyes  the 
sight  of  the  monument  of  the  fallen  grandeur  of  its  Kings. 

117 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Facts  are  forgotten  or  lose  their  importance  far  quicker  than 
one  thinks ;  but  places,  and  spots,  keep  their  eloquence, 
and  unfortunately  keep  it  for  ever." 

He  stopped,  and  looked  back  towards  the  walls  of  the 
massive  old  pile,  whose  many  windows  were  blazing  in  the 
setting  sun.  And  once  more  he  sighed :  "  Yes,  I  do  regret 
that  this  place  has  not  been  burned  down  and  destroyed  ; 
it  would  not  have  witnessed  then  the  triumph  of  the  victorious 
Prussian  eagle,  and  after  that,  what  real  French  King  would 
care  to  live  in  it,  even  if  a  King  ever  reigns  again  in  France  !  " 

He  sighed  yet  again,  and  we  slowly  retraced  our  steps 
towards  the  town.  As  we  passed  the  Castle  gates,  he  stopped 
again :  "  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi,"  he  quoted  ;  "  my  glory, 
like  that  of  my  ancestors,  has  passed  away  ;  perhaps  it  is  for 
the  best  after  all,  since  I  was  not  destined  to  see  my 
race  continue  !  " 

Much  has  been  related  concerning  the  interview  which  the 
Comte  de  Chambord  had  with  Marshal  MacMahon,  when  he 
asked  him  whether  or  not  he  would  feel  inclined  to  favour 
a  monarchical  restoration.  It  has  been  said  that  the  old 
soldier,  who  without  scruple  had  accepted  the  succession  of 
Napoleon  III.,  to  whom  he  owed  his  title  and  his  dignity, 
found  that  his  conscience  would  not  allow  him  to  "  betray," 
as  he  expressed  himself,  the  Republican  government,  at  the 
head  of  which  he  had  been  called  by  a  parliamentary  majority 
who  had  done  so  only  in  the  hope  that  he  would  help  it  to 
reinstate  its  former  Kings. 

There  is  some  truth  in  this  reproach,  because  certainly  Mac- 
Mahon had  not  shown  himself  before,  and  did  not  show  him- 
self in  the  future,  so  very  chary  of  offending  public  opinion 
as  represented  by  the  Legislative  Assembly  which  was  supposed 
to  be  the  voice  of  the  country.  But  in  the  non  possumus 
which  he  opposed  to  the  restoration  of  the  Comte  de  Chambord, 

118 


Photo  :    Pierre  Petit,  Paris. 

ADOLPHE    THIERS 


Photo:    Watery,  Paris. 
?MARSHAL   MACMAHON 


Photo:  Pierre  Petit,  Paris. 

COMTE   DE   CHAMBORD 


Photo:   Carjatt  Paris. 
LEON  GAMBETTA 


The  Comte  de  Ghambord 

there  was  something  else  than  the  desire  to  remain  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  State.  There  was  a  tacit  pledge  which 
he  had  given  to  the  Orleans  dynasty  to  support  its  pretensions, 
and  also  the  feeling  that  he  did  not  enjoy  sufficient  popularity 
among  the  army  to  enforce  a  change  of  government,  and 
to  bring  back  a  dynasty  which  had  been  driven  out  of  the 
country  by  its  own  faults.  MacMahon  was  not  clever,  not 
far-seeing,  but  he  knew  very  well  what  the  troops  thought  of 
him,  and  also  that  at  that  moment  the  disaster  of  Sedan 
was  not  sufficiently  forgotten  for  him  to  risk  being  punished 
for  it  under  another  pretext,  which  his  lending  his  hand  to 
an  attempt  at  a  monarchical  restoration  would  have 
furnished. 

The  Comte  de  Chambord  returned  to  Frohsdorf  a  sadder 
though  not  a  wiser  man.  He  was  not  fortunate  in  his  advisers  ; 
the  leaders  of  the  Legitimist  party  did  not  understand  either 
the  feelings  of  France  or  the  strength  which  they  undoubtedly 
wielded  at  that  particular  moment.  Instead  of  doing  their 
best  to  effect  a  reconciliation  between  the  different  opinions 
that  divided  the  country,  they  tried,  on  the  contrary,  to  ex- 
asperate them,  and  prevented  their  own  triumph  by  the  in- 
solence with  which  they  proclaimed  everywhere  that  its  hour 
had  struck.  France,  at  that  time,  was  like  a  man  recovering 
from  a  severe  illness,  whose  whole  body  is  sore,  and  who  wants 
to  be  handled  with  the  greatest  gentleness.  The  Legitimists 
ignored  this  condition,  and  loudly  boasted  that  the  time  had 
come  when  all  past  grievances  would  be  avenged,  and  when 
they  should  be  allowed  to  rule  according  to  their  own  pre- 
judices, bringing  back  to  power  with  them  all  the  old  traditions 
against  which  the  saner  elements  in  the  land  had  risen  in 
revolt  eighty-five  years  before.  They  wanted  to  make  a 
clean  slate,  and  wash  out  the  remembrance  of  everything 
that  had  taken  place  since  Louis  XVI.  had  been  murdered 

119 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

on  the  scaffold.  The  feeling  might  have  been  a  natural  one  ; 
the  utterance  of  it  was  stupid  in  the  extreme. 

Many  have  wondered  at  the  want  of  initiative  shown  by 
Henri  V.,  as  he  was  called  by  his  partisans.  I,  who  have 
known  him  well,  saw  nothing  extraordinary  in  this.  As  I 
have  already  hinted,  he  was  quite  willing  to  be  carried  to  the 
throne,  but  he  had  no  desire  to  occupy  it,  and  still  less  to 
step  upon  it  bound  by  promises  and  pledges,  which  would 
have  interfered  with  his  liberty  of  action,  a  thing  of  which 
he  had  always  been  extremely  jealous.  He  had  in  him  all 
the  authority  of  the  Kings  his  forefathers,  and  would  no  more 
have  submitted  to  the  advice  of  his  courtiers  than  he  would 
have  sacrificed  his  principles  to  win  back  his  lost  inheritance. 
He  wanted,  above  all  things,  to  keep  his  libre  arbitre,  and  this 
explains  the  apparent  apathy  with  which  he  witnessed  the 
overthrow  of  what  had  been  the  hopes  of  his  followers  rather 
than  his  own. 

Two  years  later  I  called  upon  the  Comte  de  Chambord 
at  Frohsdorf,  during  an  absence  of  the  Comtesse,  in  whose 
presence  it  was  always  more  or  less  difficult  to  discuss  political 
questions,  and  we  talked  over  those  days.  Every  hope  of  a 
monarchical  restoration  had  faded  then,  and  the  Republic 
was  more  or  less  an  accomplished  fact.  He  seemed  to  take 
it  as  a  natural  consequence  of  all  the  mistakes  committed  by 
the  different  governments  that  had  ruled  in  France,  and  if 
the  truth  be  told,  I  think  he  preferred  its  having  overcome 
all  opposition,  to  the  possibility  of  its  being  superseded  either 
by  the  Bonaparte,  or  the  Orleans  dynasty,  which  he  recog- 
nised, but  could  not  accept  as  the  successor  of  his  own  rights. 
The  grand  seigneur  that  he  was  could  not  adjust  himself  to 
this  hankering  after  a  "  popularite  de  bas  aloi,"  as  he  described 
it,  which  had  ever  distinguished  the  younger  branch  of  the 
house  of  Bourbon  since  the  days  of  Philippe  Egalite*  He 

120 


The  Comte  de  Ghambord 

refused  to  profess  the  theory  that  it  did  not  matter  with 
whom  one  shook  hands,  provided  one  washed  one's  own  after- 
wards. On  the  contrary,  he  was  of  opinion  that  certain  con- 
tacts can  never  be  got  rid  of,  no  matter  how  much  soap  and 
water  one  uses  to  efface  them.  It  was  partly  on  account  of  that 
feeling  that  he  did  not  regret  circumstances  had  interfered 
with  the  monarchical  restoration,  for  which  so  many  people 
had  hoped,  and  he  made  me  understand  what  he  thought  of 
it  by  saying,  among  other  things,  that :  "  A  royalty  that  has 
once  come  down  into  the  street  is  no  longer  royalty  such  as 
it  was  understood  in  the  days  of  old,  when  the  principle  of 
the  '  droit  Divin '  was  the  foremost  among  those  one  had 
been  taught  to  respect  and  to  worship.  We  Bourbons  of  the 
old  stock  cannot  bow  before  the  popularity  of  the  mob,  and 
try  to  make  it  accept  our  own.  We  can  work  for  the  people, 
act  in  unison  with  the  nation  in  all  grave  questions  where 
its  welfare  is  in  question;  we  cannot  accept  its  sovereign 
right  to  dictate  to  us  its  laws.  I  know  that  my  ideas  are 
out  of  fashion,  '  que  je  suis  demode,'  but  whom  do  I  hurt  by 
clinging  to  my  old  traditions,  to  the  ancient  glories  of  my 
house,  which  have  also  been  those  of  France,  it  must  not  be 
forgotten  ?  If  I  had  had  children,  I  might  have  acted  differ- 
ently ;  I  might,  or  I  might  not ;  and  perhaps  God  has  done 
well  in  refusing  them  to  me,  as  they  would  have  been  the  source 
of  much  conflict  in  my  mind.  As  it  is  I  shall  die  solitary  and 
alone,  and  with  me  shall  die  the  Bourbons  of  Louis  XIV., 
those  who  have  learnt  nothing,  and  forgotten  nothing,  as 
our  enemies  aver." 

He  said  the  last  words  smilingly  and  jestingly,  and  I 
could  not  help  smiling,  too,  though  I  well  knew  the  latent 
sadness  that  was  hiding  under  his  apparent  mirth.  He  was 
still  a  handsome  man  at  that  time,  though  far  too  stout,  and 
his  lameness,  although  not  interfering  with  the  dignity  of  his 

121 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

manners,  still  took  away  from  what  otherwise  would  have 
been  an  imposing  figure.  But  the  eyes  had  a  wonderfully 
kind  expression,  the  noble,  intelligent  forehead  revealed 
a  grand  nature  and  a  beautiful  soul.  One  could  not  have 
passed  him  in  the  street  without  being  struck  by  his  appear- 
ance, and  without  noticing  him,  so  completely  "  grand  seigneur  " 
was  he,  even  in  his  most  trivial  gestures.  Everyone  who 
knew  him  liked  him,  respected  him,  bowed  down  before  the 
purity  of  his  life,  and  the  earnest,  simple  manner  in  which 
he  performed  all  his  duties,  even  the  most  trifling  ones.  He 
was  one  of  those  characters  one  meets  with  but  seldom,  and 
which  reconcile  one  with  humanity. 

I  never  saw  him  again  alive  after  that  conversation,  and 
only  looked  upon  him  once  more  when  he  lay  on  his  bier, 
having  hurried  to  Frohsdorf  to  attend  his  funeral.  The  face 
had  an  expression  of  great  calm,  and  bore  but  few  traces 
of  the  sufferings  he  had  endured  in  his  last  illness.  Bunches 
of  roses  were  scattered  on  the  linen  sheet,  that  covered 
him  up  to  his  chin,  and  over  his  feet  was  draped  the 
white  flag  that  his  ancestors  had  carried  to  victory ;  that 
flag  over  which  he  had  watched  all  his  life,  and  which  was 
to  be  buried  with  him  in  the  little  chapel  of  Goritz  near  the 
Adriatic  Sea,  far  away  from  that  France  he  had  loved  so  well, 
from  those  vaults  of  St.  Denis,  whence  his  race  had  been 
excluded  for  ever. 


122 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE  ORLEANS  PRINCES 

IT  must  be  owned  that  the  Orleans  Princes,  at  the  time  of 
which  I  am  speaking,  had  far  more  adherents  than  the  Comte 
de  Chambord. 

Whilst  the  latter  kept  aloof  from  the  world  in  his  haughty 
attitude,  his  cousins  sought  popularity  by  all  means  in  their 
power,  and  wherever  they  could  hope  to  find  it.  They  had  in 
their  favour,  first  their  number,  the  beauty  of  their  women, 
their  incontestable  bravery,  their  unwearying  energy,  and 
their  courting  of  the  mob.  Against  them  was  their  excessive 
avarice,  and  the  eagerness  with  which  they  had  hastened, 
as  soon  as  the  doors  of  their  fatherland  were  opened  to  them 
once  more,  to  claim  their  confiscated  millions  without  allowing 
their  thoughts  to  dwell  for  one  moment  on  the  sad  state  in 
which  their  country  was  finding  itself,  nor  on  the  tremendous 
sacrifices  it  was  voluntarily  making  in  order  to  pay  the  enormous 
war  contribution  exacted  by  Germany,  in  accordance  with  the 
Treaty  of  Frankfurt.  In  the  claim  they  had  put  forward 
they  had  been  encouraged  by  M.  Thiers,  who,  shrewd  politician 
that  he  was,  wanted  to  make  them  unpopular  as  pretenders, 
and  to  minimise  the  influence  they  might  otherwise  have 
acquired.  The  fact  was  that  this  hasty  step,  which  would 
have  passed  unnoticed  had  they  attempted  it  later  on,  made 
them  lose  considerable  ground  among  people  who  would  other- 
wise have  looked  up  to  them,  because  the  idea  of  a  Republic  had 
not  yet  become  familiar  to  the  public  mind,  and  because  the 

123 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Orleans  dynasty  was  essentially  a  democratic  and  middle- 
class  one,  whose  instincts  did  not  clash  with  those  of  the 
governing  and  intellectual  classes  of  France  after  the  war 
that  had  driven  the  Bonapartes  out  of  the  country.  The 
reign  of  Louis  Philippe  had  not  left  bad  memories ;  many 
even  regretted  it.  The  King  as  well  as  his  family  had  known 
how  to  appeal  to  the  mob,  and  France  had  reached  an  epoch 
in  her  history,  where  the  mob  held  the  first  place  and  had 
to  be  reckoned  with.  The  King's  sons  had  frequented  public 
colleges,  associated  with  other  young  men  of  their  age,  and 
thus  had  given  satisfaction  to  the  snobbish  leanings  which 
are  perhaps  more  developed  in  Frenchmen  than  in  any  other 
nation,  in  spite  of  all  their  outcries  for  equality  and  the 
abolition  of  all  the  privileges  enjoyed  in  former  times  by  the 
upper  classes. 

The  Due  d'Aumale  had  even  made  himself  popular,  with 
a  low  kind  of  popularity  of  which  he  never  succeeded  in 
getting  rid  during  the  whole  course  of  his  life ;  but  still  he 
was  popular  in  his  way.  I  shall  talk  of  him  later  on,  as  he 
deserves  a  chapter  to  himself,  and  Chantilly,  too,  is  worthy 
of  a  description  not  embodied  in  a  few  words.  He  was 
always  considered  to  be  the  clever  man  of  his  family,  and 
was  the  most  respected  by  his  numerous  nephews  and  nieces, 
partly  on  account  of  his  large  fortune,  the  inheritance  of  the 
Princess  de  Conde,  and  bequeathed  to  him  by  the  last  of 
that  name  and  race.  He  had  become  the  master  of  the  old 
home  of  the  Condes,  made  illustrious  by  the  Connetable  de 
Montmorency,  and  the  brave  warrior  known  to  his  contem- 
poraries by  the  name  of  Monsieur  le  Prince,  and  to  history 
under  that  of  the  Great  Conde.  There  was  much  of  chivalry 
in  the  nature  of  the  Due  d'Aumale,  more  so,  perhaps,  than  in 
the  character  of  his  brothers,  who  were  less  princely  in  their 
manners  and  ways. 

124 


The  Orleans  Princes 

The  head  of  this  historic  family,  the  Comte  de  Paris 
can  be  described  in  very  few  words :  he  was  essentially 
an  honest  man,  but  devoid  of  initiative ;  timid  in  the  mani- 
festation of  his  opinions ;  an  excellent  soldier,  as  he  proved 
himself  to  be  during  the  American  War  in  which  he  took  part 
as  a  volunteer,  but  a  mediocre  officer — one  born  to  obedience 
but  not  reared  to  command  ;  weak  in  character,  but  firm 
in  his  convictions ;  an  excellent  father,  a  devoted  husband, 
a  dutiful  son ;  a  perfect  King  had  he  ever  become  one,  so 
long  as  his  country  was  prosperous,  but  an  incapable  one 
had  it  found  itself  in  difficulties ;  a  man  always  careful  to 
fulfil  his  duties,  but  certainly  not  one  who  inspired  love  for 
those  duties  outside  his  own  immediate  family  circle.  He 
did  not  possess  any  of  the  qualities  of  a  Pretender,  except 
domestic  virtues,  which  no  one  asked  of  him,  and  which  even 
his  best  friends  did  not  require.  Though  he  was  head  of 
his  house,  he  never  could  divest  himself  of  an  excess  of 
deference  to  the  advice  of  his  uncles,  and  could  rarely  muster 
enough  courage  to  speak  or  to  act  independently  of  them. 

The  only  time  he  allowed  himself  to  indulge  in  politics 
was  at  the  period  of  the  famous  Boulangist  agitation,  when 
he  made  the  rather  naive  remark  that  he  had  been  induced 
to  take  part  in  that  intrigue  because  a  great  Christian  like  the 
Count  de  Mun,  and  a  great  lady  like  the  Duchesse  d'Uzes, 
were  attracted  to  it.  This  attempt  to  restore  the  throne 
of  Louis  Philippe  by  the  help  of  an  adventurer  with  a  white 
feather  in  his  cap  had,  as  is  known,  ended  in  a  ridicule  that 
had  considerably  shaken  the  personal  position  of  the  Comte 
de  Paris,  already  made  insecure  through  his  own  and  his 
partisans'  many  mistakes.  The  Comte  had  essentially  a 
reasoning  mind,  but  was  always  filled  with  abstract  ideas ; 
he  could  never  put  things  on  a  practical  ground.  He  had 
few  illusions  but  a  false  look  out,  as  well  as  a  wrong  point 

125 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

of  view.  Instead  of  adopting  one  of  two  lines  of  conduct 
which  would  have  been  equally  dignified — submission  to  the 
Comte  de  Chambord,  or  brave  adherence  to  the  principles  of  his 
ancestors  and  those  of  that  dynasty  of  July,  "  la  monarchic  de 
juillet,"  as  it  was  still  called  in  France — he  had  taken  a  middle 
course,  that  of  recognising  the  personality  but  not  the  rights 
of  his  cousin.  This  made  him  bow  down  before  the 
universal  suffrage  that  had  proclaimed  the  Republic  in  the 
kingdom  of  which  he  would  in  any  case  have  been  the  lawful 
heir.  He  thought  that  by  his  attitude  of  absolute  submission 
to  the  wishes  of  the  nation  he  would  have  inspired  it  with 
the  desire  to  call  him  to  its  head.  A  false  reasoning  if  ever 
there  was  one,  that  was  to  cause  him  to  take  many  erratic 
and  undignified  steps,  and  which  at  last  exiled  him  anew ; 
an  exile  in  which  he  remained  until  his  death. 

The  only  time  that  the  Comte  de  Paris  ventured  openly 
upon  a  step  which  could  be  construed  as  a  manifestation 
of  his  pretensions  to  the  throne  of  France  was  on  the  occasion 
of  the  wedding  of  his  eldest  daughter,  Queen  Amelie  of 
Portugal,  when  he  gave  in  his  Paris  residence,  the  Hotel 
Galliera,  a  reception  at  which  all  the  pomp  that  attended 
royalty  in  former  days  was  displayed.  It  was  as  ill- 
timed  as  useless,  and  was  the  pretext  for  his  expulsion 
from  his  country,  an  expulsion  that  had  been  asked  for  a 
long  time  since  by  the  Republican  leaders,  who  did  not  care 
for  the  nation  to  become  used  to  the  continued  presence 
of  the  descendants  of  its  former  Kings.  He  did  not  attempt 
to  resist,  though  it  is  said  that  some  of  his  partisans  begged 
him  to  allow  them  to  make  a  manifestation  in  his  favour ; 
he  embarked  for  British  shores  with  a  resignation  that 
would  have  been  admirable  in  a  private  person,  but  which 
was  very  near  akin  to  cowardice  in  the  representative  of  the 
Divine  rights  of  Kings,  those  rights  that  Henri  IV.  knew  how 

126 


The  Orleans  Princes 

to  impose,  even  on  such  great  lords  as  the  members  of  that 
powerful  house  of  Lorraine,  who  also,  at  one  time,  aspired  to 
the  throne  that  belonged  to  him,  and  which  he  conquered 
at  the  point  of  his  sword. 

Philippe  VII.  was  of  a  more  pacific  disposition  than  his 
illustrious  ancestor.  He  bade  good-bye  to  his  lovely  castle 
of  Eu,  and  settled  at  Stowe  House,  the  old  residence  of  the 
Dukes  of  Buckingham,  where  he  ended  his  life,  after  cruel 
sufferings,  borne  with  the  patience  that  was  the  distinctive 
feature  of  his  honest,  straightforward,  and  distinctly  middle- 
class  character.  With  the  Comte  de  Chambord  had  dis- 
appeared a  principle  together  with  a  man ;  when  the  Comte 
de  Paris  expired  in  his  turn,  there  died  a  good  and  virtuous 
person  but  nothing  else.  He  represented  in  the  world  his 
own  estimable  self,  but  not  the  royalty  to  which  he  had  been 
born. 

About  his  son,  little  need  be  said.  Gifted  with  a  more 
adventurous  spirit  than  that  of  his  father,  the  Due  d' Orleans 
began  his  career  by  risking  imprisonment  in  France,  when 
he  appeared  there  to  enrol  himself  in  the  ranks  of  her  army. 
He  has  never  made  the  least  attempt  to  secure  a  crown  which 
does  not  even  tempt  him.  He  has  led  the  life  of  an  idle 
man  of  means,  travelling  about,  playing  at  science  when  it 
suited  him,  ignorant  of  the  great  aims  of  life  ;  a  man  not 
even  to  be  pitied,  because  misfortune  has  never  touched  him ; 
one  who  has  never  known  what  society,  his  country,  and 
the  great  name  he  bears  required  of  him ;  who  has  laughed 
at  what  his  forefathers  have  always  respected ;  who  calls 
himself  the  heir  to  all  the  Bourbons  that  have  left  their  impress 
on  history,  but  who  would  be  very  sorry  had  he  ever  to  follow 
in  their  footsteps ;  the  Republic  can  well  afford  to  ignore 
him,  because  he  would  be  the  first  to  be  embarrassed  by 
its  fall. 

127 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

The  Due  d' Orleans  had  no  children  by  his  marriage  with 
an  Austrian  Archduchess,  from  whom  he  parted  very  soon 
after  they  had  been  united.  His  only  brother,  the  Duke 
of  Montpensier,  is  still  unmarried,  and  at  present  the  grand- 
children of  the  Due  de  Chartres  constitute  the  hope  of  the 
partisans  of  the  Orleans  dynasty. 

The  Due  de  Chartres  was  the  one  brilliant  figure  among 
the  descendants  of  King  Louis  Philippe.  There  was  some- 
thing dashing  about  him  that  appealed  to  the  imagination 
of  people.  When  the  Franco-German  War  broke  out,  he 
at  once  offered  his  services  first  to  the  Imperial,  after- 
wards to  the  Republican,  government,  and  when  they  had 
both  refused  them,  he  succeeded  in  entering  a  regiment  of 
volunteers,  under  the  assumed  name  of  Robert  Le  Fort,  only 
the  Comtesse  de  Vallon  and  one  or  two  other  friends 
being  aware  of  his  identity. 

When  the  campaign  was  over  he  remained  on  active 
service,  until  the  proscription  that  fell  on  his  brother  had  also 
an  influence  upon  his  fate,  and  obliged  him  to  retire  into 
private  life.  He  had  been  a  great  favourite  in  Parisian 
society ;  men  appreciated  his  wit,  and  women  his  chivalrous 
devotion  to  them.  It  is  not  an  indiscretion  to  say  that  his 
love  affairs  with  the  Princesse  de  Sagan  were  at  one  time 
a  general  subject  of  conversation.  He  was  always  a  welcome 
guest  at  a  dinner  table,  and  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the 
hunting  field,  and  succeeded  better  than  any  of  his  uncles 
and  cousins  in  winning  for  himself  the  sympathies  even  of 
Republicans,  who  secretly  feared  his  popularity  among  the 
army  and  in  his  own  regiment. 

He  was  a  born  soldier,  with  all  the  intrepidity  of  the 
fighter  who  never  shirks  a  battlefield.  People  liked  him  and 
respected  him,  because  with  all  the  sterling  qualities  of  his 
elder  brother,  the  Comte  de  Paris,  he  had  none  of  the  latter 's 

128 


The  Orleans  Princes 

apathy.  Perhaps,  if  he  had  not  been  a  younger  son,  he  might 
have  made  an  effort  to  win  back  the  throne  for  his  race. 
But,  reared  in  principles  of  absolute  submission  to  the  head 
of  his  house,  he  never  criticised  anything  his  elders  did,  and 
though  I  have  known  him  intimately  and  well,  the  only  time 
when  I  have  heard  him  talk  politics  was  one  afternoon  at  his 
little  country  home  of  St.  Firmin  on  the  borders  of  the  Forest 
of  Chantilly,  when  the  conversation  turned  on  the  trial  of 
Marshal  Bazaine,  over  which  the  Due  d'Aumale  had  presided. 
The  Due  de  Chartres  happened  to  be  in  a  communicative  mood, 
and  expressed  the  opinion  that  he  thought  it  had  been  a 
mistake  on  the  part  of  his  uncle  to  have  accepted  the  task 
of  judging  the  unfortunate  commander-in-chief  of  the  army 
of  Metz.  He  said  that  a  member  of  the  house  of  Bourbon 
ought  not  to  have  consented  to  appear  before  the  public 
as  a  kind  of  avenger  of  wrongs  in  which  politics  had  had 
so  great  a  part.  And  he  added  these  significant  words  : 
"  We  Orleans,  more  than  even  members  of  other  royal  houses, 
ought  to  avoid  showing  ourselves  as  arbiters  of  another 
man's  fate.  It  is  quite  enough  to  have  to  carry  into 
history  the  stigma  that  attaches  to  us  ever  since  the  trial 
of  Louis  XVI." 

I  looked  up  at  him  rather  in  astonishment. 

'  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  understand  what  you  mean,  and 
that  you  are  surprised  to  hear  me  talk  in  the  way  I  do,  but 
you  must  not  think  that  I  have  not  often  given  a  thought 
to  that  fatal  act  of  my  ancestor,  when  he  helped  an  ungrateful 
nation  to  murder  its  legitimate  King.  You  see,  I  belong  to 
another  generation  than  the  one  which  saw  all  those  horrors, 
and  I  cannot  consider  them  without  deep  regret  and  shame. 
I  can  understand  a  good  many  things — cruelty,  ambition, 
ingratitude,  wickedness  even — I  cannot  admit  crimes  against 
nature,  and  the  vote  of  the  Due  d'Orleans  belonged  to  that 

J  129 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

kind  of  crime.  Beside  it,  the  so-called — because  I  cannot 
look  at  it  in  that  light  since  it  was  the  result  of  the  free  choice 
of  a  great  nation — the  so-called  usurpation  of  my  grandfather 
was  a  small  matter.  It  only  offended  and  sinned  against  a 
principle,  it  did  not  offend  the  natural  feelings  that  ought 
always  to  be  sacred  to  every  man,  no  matter  what  position 
he  holds  in  life.  And  when  I  reflect  on  the  trial  of  Marshal 
Bazaine,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  my  uncle  would  have 
been  better  advised  if  he  had  kept  aloof,  and  left  to  others 
the  task  of  asking  from  that  victim  of  his  ambition  or  of  cir- 
cumstances— which  it  was,  it  is  not  for  me  to  say — an  account 
of  his  actions  and  an  explanation  of  his  deeds." 

The  Due  de  Chartres  had  married  his  cousin,  the  daughter 
of  the  Prince  de  Joinville  and  of  a  Brazilian  Princess.  His 
wife  was  a  very  distinguished  woman,  who  by  her  tact  and 
her  cleverness  made  herself  universally  liked.  They  had 
several  children,  and  their  eldest  daughter,  the  Princess 
Marie,  who  was  married  to  a  Prince  belonging  to  the  Royal 
House  of  Denmark,  played  at  one  time  rather  an  important 
part  in  European  politics,  thanks  to  the  influence  which  she 
exercised  over  the  mind  of  the  Emperor  Alexander  III.  of 
Russia.  She  died  young,  and  the  Due  did  not  survive  her 
long.  The  Duchesse  de  Chartres,  widowed  and  past  middle 
age,  now  spends  her  time  in  her  little  home  at  St.  Firmin, 
having  sold  the  house  in  the  Rue  Jean  Goujon,  where  she 
had  lived  with  her  husband,  and  which  at  one  time  was  a 
centre  of  reunion  for  a  certain  portion  of  Paris  society.  The 
only  members  of  the  family  of  Orleans  whom  one  can  meet 
in  the  salons  of  the  French  aristocracy  are  the  Due  and  the 
Duchesse  de  Vendome,  who  live  at  Neuilly,  and  go  about  a 
good  deal.  The  Comtesse  de  Paris  comes  sometimes  to  the 
capital,  but  never  stays  there  longer  than  for  a  few  days, 
spending  the  rest  of  her  time  either  in  her  palace  of  Villaman- 

130 


The  Orleans  Princes 

rique  in  Spain,  or  in  her  castle  of  Randan,  near  Vichy,  where 
her  life  is  entirely  given  up  to  practices  of  devotion  and  good 
deeds.  All  her  daughters  are  married.  Tragedy  has  broken 
the  life  of  her  eldest  daughter,  Queen  Amelie  of  Portugal, 
but  the  Comtesse  is  placid  by  nature,  possessing  something 
of  the  fatalism  that  ruled  the  Comte  de  Paris,  and  that  never 
disputes  the  decrees  of  a  Providence  it  has  learned  to  bless 
whether  it  sends  good  or  evil  to  mankind. 

The  future  of  the  Orleans  family,  that  promised  to  become 
so  important  on  returning  to  France  after  the  fall  of  the 
Empire,  proved  to  be  quite  insignificant  in  so  far  as  the 
destiny  of  France  was  concerned.  The  Orleans  had  neither 
the  courage  nor  the  energy,  nor  especially  the  unselfishness, 
to  try  to  win  back  for  themselves  the  position  which  they 
had  lost.  They  never  had  enough  initiative,  much  less  deter- 
mination to  brave  public  opinion,  and  eat  humble  pie  before 
the  Comte  de  Chambord.  These  things  alone  could  have  put 
them  back  on  the  height  whence  they  had  fallen.  But  the 
descendants  of  Louis  Philippe  never  could  make  up  their 
minds  to  any  resolution,  whether  grave  or  frivolous.  They 
always  professed  the  fallacious  opinion  that  the  will  of  a 
nation  ought  to  be  respected,  no  matter  how  or  in  what 
way  expressed.  France  was  for  them  a  master  before 
whose  decrees  they  never  for  one  moment  felt  the  temptation 
to  rebel.  They  accepted  those  decrees  so  well  that  now  no 
one  dreams  of  looking  upon  them  as  pretenders  to  anything, 
be  it  a  throne,  or  simply  the  wish  to  have  their  word  con- 
sidered at  times  when  the  vital  interests  of  their  country 
are  at  stake.  They  always  talk,  or  rather  allow  their  followers 
to  talk,  of  their  duties,  of  their  fidelity  to  the  principles  that 
made  their  ancestors  great,  but  in  reality  they  have  not  the 
slightest  wish  to  put  forward  their  persons  in  order  to  secure 
to  their  race  anything  beyond  the  millions  which  they  already 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

possess.  The  Comte  de  Paris  was  a  dreamer  ;  the  Due 
de  Nemours  a  saint ;  the  Due  de  Chartres  a  soldier,  never 
looking  beyond  the  field  of  a  soldier's  activity ;  the  Due 
d'Orleans  a  man  of  the  world ;  the  Due  d'Aumale  a 
scholar,  immersed  in  his  books  and  his  artistic  tastes. 
Among  them  all  a  man  was  wanted,  and  a  King  could  not 
be  found. 


132 


CHAPTER   XII 
THE  Due  D'AUMALE  AND  CHANTILLY 

THE  Due  d'Aumale  was  certainly  the  one  member  of  the 
Orleans  family  who  made  the  most  friends  for  himself,  and  had 
the  greatest  number  of  admirers.  Whether  this  was  due  to 
his  personal  merits,  or  to  the  millions  which  he  inherited 
from  the  last  Prince  of  Conde,  it  is  not  for  me  to  say.  He  had 
plenty  to  give  to  others;  it  is  but  natural  that  these  others 
praised  him  in  the  hope  he  would  give  them  a  little  more 
than  he  had  intended.  He  courted  popularity,  made  sacrifices 
of  pride,  principles,  and  sometimes  personal  affections,  in 
order  to  win  it ;  and  he  succeeded  in  a  certain  sense,  at  least 
from  the  point  of  view  of  those  who  measure  praise  and  blame 
according  to  the  social  standing  of  the  person  to  whom  they 
deal  it.  He  was  more  learned  than  clever,  more  clever  than 
brilliant ;  his  wit  was  inferior  to  his  intelligence,  but  he  had 
cunning,  a  singular  way  of  at  once  finding  his  personal  advan- 
tage out  of  an  entangled  situation.  He  put  his  own  well- 
being  beyond  everything  else,  and  cared  in  reality  only  for 
his  comforts  and  being  left  alone  to  lead  an  easy,  indolent 
existence  among  his  books,  his  pictures,  his  flowers,  his  manu- 
scripts, all  the  magnificences  of  the  old  home  of  the  Conde"s. 
This  he  had  restored  with  care  and  a  singular  artistic  know- 
ledge, and  had  succeeded  in  endowing  it  with  some  of  its  past 
glories. 

He  was  a  perfect  host,  even  though,  perhaps,  a  little  dull ; 
and  one  enjoyed  a  first  visit  to  Chantilly  more  than  a  second,  on 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

account  of  the  necessity  it  entailed  to  perform  with  its  master 
what  is  called  "  le  tour  du  proprietaire,"  to  admire  what  he 
admired,  to  look  only  upon  what  he  showed  you  himself,  and 
not  to  be  allowed  to  roam  at  will  in  the  avenues  of  the  park, 
or  in  the  vast  halls  full  of  lovely  things,  and  of  remembrances 
of  the  past.  One  would  have  liked  to  spend  hours  contem- 
plating the  wonders  of  art  gathered  under  that  roof,  to 
examine  the  sword  of  the  Great  Conde,  or  to  look  through  the 
quantity  of  interesting  documents,  historical  and  otherwise, 
that  were  kept  in  businesslike  order  in  the  great  cupboards 
of  the  long  library,  whose  windows  opened  on  the  meadows, 
where  probably  the  lovely  Madame  de  Longueville  had  roamed 
together  with  one  or  other  of  her  numerous  admirers. 

This  solitary  place  required  silence  rather  than  the 
casual  remarks  which  echoed  through  its  corridors  as  the 
motley  crowd  generally  met  at  the  Sunday  breakfasts  which 
the  Due  liked  to  give.  These  breakfasts  were  quite  a  feature 
in  the  life  of  the  master  of  this  palace,  and  the  queerest 
assemblage  of  people  could  be  met  at  them — Academicians, 
colleagues  of  the  Due,  military  men,  foreigners,  scientists, 
diplomats,  men  of  letters  and  men  of  the  world,  ladies  of 
the  highest  rank  and  actresses.  He  made  no  distinctions,  and 
never  cared  whether  he  brought  together  people  who  agreed 
with  each  other  or  not.  There  was  no  link  between  his  guests, 
who  forgot  all  about  those  who  had  been  their  companions 
of  the  afternoon  at  Chantilly  after  that  afternoon  was  over  ; 
they  never  chatted  together,  and  perhaps  their  host  did  not 
care  for  them  to  do  so.  He  liked  to  concentrate  around  his 
own  person  the  attention  of  those  who  had  partaken  of  his 
hospitality ;  he  would  have  felt  offended  had  he  caught  them 
talking  to  each  other,  and  not  listening  exclusively  to  him- 
self. He  was  full  of  attention  to  those  whom  he  guessed  were 
admirers  of  his  deeds  or  works,  and  took  a  deal  of  trouble 


The  Due  d'Aumale  and  Ghantilly 

to  show  to  self-made  people  that  he  esteemed  them  more 
than  those  who  were  his  equals  in  birth  if  not  in  rank.  For 
instance,  I  remember  one  day  when,  having  at  lunch  the 
Duchesse  de  Noailles  and  Madame  Cuvillier  Fleury,  the 
widow  of  his  old  tutor,  he  put  the  latter  on  his  right  and 
the  Duchesse  on  his  left.  The  fact  was  instantly  noticed  by 
a  few  Academicians,  of  what  I  would  call  the  inferior  ranks 
of  the  Academy,  and  instantly  it  was  remarked  what  a  kind, 
noble  and  attentive  nature  was  Henri  d'Orleans,  Due  d'Aumale, 
who  thus  ignored  the  high  standing  of  one  of  the  noblest 
amongst  the  noble  Duchesses  of  France  in  order  to  show 
gratitude  to  the  relict  of  the  man  to  whom  he  owed  his  moral 
training.  This  action  of  the  Duke  was  just  one  of  these 
things  he  was  so  fond  of  doing,  in  order  to  provoke  admira- 
tion. He  liked  to  forget  the  exclusive  traditions  of  his  race 
whenever  he  thought  that  it  would  ensure  for  him  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  mob ;  that  mob  which  his  family  had  ever 
courted,  to  which  it  owed  in  part  its  fame  and  its  successes, 
and  which  despised  it  for  the  very  facility  with  which  it 
bowed  down  licking  the  very  dust.  Among  all  the  oppor- 
tunist Orleans  the  Due  d'Aumale  was  foremost. 

Since  the  death  of  his  wife  and  children  all  his  affections 
had  concentrated  on  his  splendid  Chantilly,  the  reconstruction 
of  which  had  entirely  absorbed  him  from  the  day  of  his  return 
to  France  after  the  revolution  that  had  overthrown  the 
Bonaparte  dynasty.  In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  said  he 
had  no  political  ambitions.  He  knew  that  he  had  no  right 
to  the  crown  of  France,  and  that  he  could  not  pretend  to  it 
without  forgoing  all  the  principles  which  he  did  not  possess, 
but  which  he  was  supposed  to  represent.  Having  been 
sounded  as  to  whether  he  would  accept  the  Presidency  of  the 
Republic,  he  had  consented  to  do  so,  because  he  had  been 
told  that  he  had  to  do  it,  but  he  did  not  regret  that,  as  events 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

turned  out,  the  candidature  of  Marshal  MacMahon  was  pre- 
ferred to  his  own.  He  returned  to  his  country  home,  to  his 
roses,  his  pictures,  his  works  of  art,  his  horses,  and  his  dogs, 
and  took  up  again  his  easy,  happy,  careless  life  as  a  grand 
seigneur  of  olden  times,  absorbed  in  his  books  and  studies, 
able  to  gather  his  friends  round  him  whenever  he  liked,  and 
to  do  the  honours  of  his  stately  domain.  Fond  of  hunting 
the  stag  in  his  vast  forests,  he  was  not  above  coming  to 
Paris  whenever  he  wanted  amusements  that  would  have 
been  incompatible  with  the  grandeur  of  Chantilly — to  kiss 
the  hand  of  a  Leonide  Leblanc,  or  to  enjoy  an  hour's  chat 
with  the  lovely  Countess  de  Castiglione,  whose  beauty  then 
was  on  the  wane.  He  was  an  amiable  talker,  rather  dry 
in  his  remarks,  but  always  ready  to  make  use  of  his  many 
remembrances  and  his  vast  erudition  to  add  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  those  with  whom  he  was  conversing.  He  told  an 
anecdote  pleasantly,  and  related  an  historical  fact  with  a 
grand  eighteenth-century  manner,  without  offending  the 
Republican  instincts  of  those  who  were  listening  to  him. 

His  appearance  was  entirely  that  of  a  grand  seigneur 
of  old,  no  matter  whether  he  was  dressed  in  his  uniform  or  in 
evening  clothes,  with  the  red  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honour 
across  his  chest,  or  whether  he  was  met  walking  in  his  park 
in  corduroy  trousers,  and  gaiters  rather  the  worse  for  wear. 
His  thin,  delicate  features,  with  the  white  tuft  on  the  chin, 
the  long,  soft,  silken  moustache,  and  eyes  with  a  haunted 
look,  reminded  one  of  a  picture  by  Velasquez  or  Van  Dyck. 
The  figure  was  slightly  bent,  but  wiry  and  agile,  and  had 
kept  much  of  the  elasticity  of  its  younger  days. 

He  talked  quickly,  sometimes  sharply,  but  always  with 
extreme  courtesy,  and  even  when  disagreeing  did  so  in  most 
measured  tones,  and  with  the  utmost  care  not  to  wound  the 
feelings  of  those  with  whom  he  was  in  discussion.  He  had 

136 


The  Due  d'Aumale  and  Chantilly 

a  sympathetic  manner,  but  not  a  kingly  one  by  any  means. 
There  was  nothing  regal  about  him,  but  there  was  also  nothing 
that  was  not  gentlemanly  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word. 
And  sometimes,  when  one  saw  him  leaning  against  the  pedestal 
of  the  statue  of  the  Connetable  of  Montmorency,  which  he 
had  had  erected  in  front  of  his  palace  of  Chantilly,  or  handling 
with  love  and  reverence  the  sword  which  the  Great  Conde 
had  carried  at  Rocroy,  for  one  short,  flitting  moment  he  gave 
one  the  impression  that  he  was  only  the  guardian  of  those 
historical  relics  of  which  he  was  master. 

The  Due  d'Aumale  had  never  had  the  initiative  to  fight  for 
the  privileges  to  which  he  had  been  born.  In  1848  he  was  in 
command  of  an  important  army  in  Algeria,  with  which  he 
might  have  fought  the  insurrectional  government  with  advan- 
tage. He  either  lacked  courage,  or  didn't  think  it  worth  while 
to  risk  his  own  personal  position  as  a  factor  in  the  France 
of  the  future  to  do  so.  He  resigned  his  command,  with  more 
alacrity  than  dignity,  and  accepting  as  the  decision  of  his 
country  the  rebellion  of  the  few,  retired  to  England,  and 
with  occasional  stays  in  his  Sicilian  domains,  near  Palermo, 
he  awaited  in  retirement  and  silence  for  the  dawn  of  another 
day  which  would  allow  him  to  return  to  the  France  he  liked 
so  much  and  to  the  Chantilly  he  loved  so  well. 

When  at  last  that  moment  came,  his  first  care  was  to 
use  his  efforts  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  a  new  banishment. 
In  order  to  do  this  he  opened  his  doors  wide  to  all  political 
men  and  to  all  the  literary  celebrities  of  the  day.  His 
hospitality  was  unbounded  ;  he  flattered  the  middle  classes, 
who  had  suddenly  become  the  leading  force  in  France,  with 
consummate  skill.  He  tried  as  much  as  he  could  to  make 
others  forget  that  he  was  a  member  of  the  ancient  house  of 
Bourbon,  with  whose  destinies  those  of  their  country  had  been 
inseparably  associated  for  centuries.  He  strove  always 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

to  appear  to  those  whom  he  welcomed  under  his  roof  as  a 
private  gentleman,  the  owner  of  an  historical  place,  and  as 
a  member  of  that  Academy  to  which  he  was  so  proud  to 
belong,  the  membership  of  which  was  dearer  to  him  than 
all  the  glories  of  his  race.  He  democratised  himself,  if  such 
an  expression  can  be  pardoned.  He  came  down  from  the 
throne,  on  the  steps  of  which  he  had  been  born,  into  the  crowd 
with  which  he  liked  to  mix  himself,  quite  forgetting  that  this 
crowd  could  at  any  minute  descend  to  the  gutter,  whither  they 
would  drag  him  too  whether  he  liked  it  or  not. 

There  came,  however,  a  day  in  the  career  of  the  Due 
d'Aumale  when  he  felt  constrained  to  assert  himself,  when  for 
once  the  blood  of  Henri  IV.  spoke  in  him.  It  was  when  he 
wrote  to  the  President,  Jules  Grevy,  that  famous  letter 
which  resulted  in  his  being  sent  to  join  his  nephew  across 
the  frontiers  of  France.  This  letter  was  penned  after  the 
government  had  sent  the  Comte  de  Paris  into  an  exile 
whence  he  was  never  to  return,  and  he  himself  had  been 
deprived  of  his  rank  and  command.  The  shock  was 
terrible  to  him,  and  bitterly  did  he  regret  the  attack 
of  indignation  that  had  made  him  speak  when  he  should 
have  remained  silent.  As  he  said  himself  many  years  later : 
"  J'ai  laisse  parler  mon  cceur,  tandis  que  j'aurais  du  ecouter 
ma  raison "  ("I  listened  to  my  heart  when  I  ought  only  to 
have  heard  my  reason"). 

He  retired  to  Brussels,  which  was  nearer  than  England  to 
the  royal  home  he  had  adorned  with  such  loving  care,  in  the 
hope  to  bequeath  it  to  his  race,  a  living  memento  of  the  glories 
of  their  ancestors.  When  he  saw  himself  parted  from  Chan- 
tilly,  especially  when  it  became  evident  to  him  that  he  would 
remain  in  exile  until  death  released  him,  he  took  a  resolution 
which,  better  than  anything  else,  proves  that  in  his  heart 
and  mind  his  family  held  but  a  small  place. 

138 


The  Due  d'Aumale  and  Ghantilly 

He  made  a  will  by  which  he  left  Chantilly,  its  collections, 
its  treasures,  its  library,  its  historical  documents,  its  park 
and  forests,  to  the  French  Academy.  And  he  divulged  his 
intention  in  the  hope  that,  as  a  reward  for  the  splendid  gift 
he  was  making  to  her,  France  would  once  more  admit  him 
within  her  doors,  and  by  restoring  him  to  his  home  thank 
him  for  having  given  it  to  her. 

This  act  of  selfish  generosity  has  been  very  differently 
commented  upon.  Whilst  many  have  admired  it,  a  few  old 
men  and  women,  born  and  bred  in  ideas  of  an  age  when 
traditions,  love  for  one's  race,  and  desire  to  help  it  to  keep 
its  high  position  and  its  inheritance  were  uppermost,  have 
bitterly  reproached  him  for  having  thus  transgressed  traditions 
that  ought  to  have  been  sacred  to  him. 

This  attack  of  "  Christian  generosity,"  as  someone  wittily 
termed  it,  which  made  him  not  only  forgive  the  injury  that 
had  been  done  to  him,  but  even  reward  by  a  kingly  gift  the 
injustice  of  a  country  which  had  used  him  so  mercilessly,  not 
only  estranged  him  from  his  family,  which,  though  it  said 
nothing,  thought  a  great  deal,  but  also  made  him  lose  the 
sympathies  of  many  former  partisans  of  the  Orleans  dynasty. 
This  alienation  of  the  home  of  the  Condes,  in  favour  of  a  Re- 
publican government,  made  all  realise  that  whatever  were 
the  qualities  of  the  Due  d'Aumale,  they  were  obscured  by  his 
unlimited  selfishness. 

France  also  felt  the  degradation  of  this  gift,  and  did  not 
hasten  to  reward  the  donor  of  it  as  he  had  expected.  She 
left  him  for  some  months  in  Brussels,  alone  with  the  shame 
of  his  unworthy  action,  until  at  last  an  advocate  of  talent, 
Maitre  Clery,  succeeded  in  obtaining  from  President  Carnot 
the  repeal  of  the  decree  which  had  banished  the  Duke  from 
France.  He  thereupon  returned  in  haste  to  his  beloved 
Chantilly,  where  he  took  up  again  his  former  existence,  with 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  difference  that  when  he  received  at  his  table  the  members 
of  the  Academy  he  used  to  tell  them  :  "  Maintenant  vous 
etes  ici  chez  vous,  messieurs"  ("Now  you  are  at  home"). 
It  was  related  at  the  time  that  a  member  of  the  learned 
Assembly  took  this  opportunity  to  entreat  the  Duke  to  change 
the  place  of  a  certain  picture  which  he  thought  had  not  been 
put  where  it  ought  to  have  been  hung.  Henri  d'Orleans'  eyes 
flashed  with  indignation  at  this  audacity,  and  drawing  him- 
self up  very  haughtily  he  said  :  "  Vous  vous  oubliez,  monsieur  " 
("You  forget  yourself,  sir"),  to  which,  nothing  daunted, 
the  impertinent  visitor  remarked :  "  Mais,  puisque  vous 
venez  de  dire  que  nous  sommes  chez  nous,  monseigneur " 
("  But  you  have  just  said  that  we  are  at  home,  sir"). 

Maitre  Clery,  to  whom  the  Prince  owed  his  return  from 
exile,  did  not  know  him  personally,  and  had  never  been  among 
those  whom  he  had  invited  to  his  receptions.  Consequently 
his  action  when  he  undertook  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  Due 
d'Aumale  with  the  President  of  the  Republic  was  absolutely 
disinterested.  He  had,  however,  expected  a  word  of  thanks 
for  his  intervention  in  the  matter.  That  wrord  was  a  long 
time  in  coming,  too  long,  perhaps,  in  the  opinion  of  some 
people.  When  at  last  the  celebrated  advocate  received  an 
invitation  to  lunch  at  Chantilly,  he  remarked  that  it  came 
like  mustard  after  dinner — "  comme  de  la  moutarde  apres 
diner." 

The  last  years  of  the  life  of  the  Due  d'Aumale  were  saddened 
by  uncongenial  family  stories  and  incidents,  in  which  his 
nephews — so  gossip  said — figured  in  rather  an  unpleasant 
light.  Angry  beyond  words  at  these  rumours,  his  relations 
with  his  people  became  more  and  more  distant  and  estranged, 
and  the  big  family  parties  that  he  liked  to  gather  round  him 
in  former  times  took  place  no  more.  He  kept  himself  among 
a  small  circle  of  friends,  and  in  the  society  of  Madame  de  Clin- 

140 


The  Due  d'Aumale  and  Ghantilly 

champs,  a  former  lady-in-waiting  of  the  Duchesse  d'Aumale, 
whom  he  married  secretly,  and  whom — and  this  is  very 
characteristic  of  him — he  left  very  badly  off  after  his  death, 
with  nothing  but  a  small  pittance  out  of  his  many  millions. 
Madame  de  Clinchamps  was  invariably  amiable.  She  appeared 
at  the  lunches  given  at  Chantilly,  and  visitors  found  her 
sitting  by  the  fire  in  the  tapestried  drawing-room  where  the 
Due  used  to  receive  his  guests.  She  did  not  put  herself 
forward  in  any  way,  and  never  attempted  even  to  do  the 
honours  of  the  place.  She  must  have  really  loved  the  Due, 
or  else  she  would  never  have  put  up  with  the  slights  he  show- 
ered upon  her,  or  accepted  the  false  position  in  which  he 
left  her ;  and  her  devotion  to  him  never  failed  up  to  his  death, 
after  which  she  retired  to  a  small  house  on  the  edge  of  the 
Forest  of  Chantilly,  where,  at  the  time  I  am  writing,  she  lives 
in  strict  retirement  and  in  comparative  poverty. 

I  have  met  most  of  the  celebrities  of  modern  France  at 
the  Due  d'Aumale's  lunches.  He  was  very  catholic  as  to 
the  people  whom  he  invited,  and  only  required  them  to  be 
amiable  and  to  listen  well  to  him  without  attempting  to 
interrupt.  Among  his  great  friends  was  Jules  Lemaitre,  the 
Academician,  an  amusing,  intelligent  little  man,  rather  void 
of  manners,  who  buzzed  about  in  a  way  that  would  have 
been  aggressive  had  it  not  been  so  funny.  He  was  full  of 
wit,  but  sometimes  said  gauche  things,  the  value  of  which 
did  not  appear  to  strike  his  otherwise  critical  mind.  For 
instance,  one  day,  whilst  the  Due  was  showing  to  his  visitors 
a  lovely  collection  of  miniatures  of  the  Royal  Family  of  France, 
from  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he  interrupted  him 
with  the  question  :  "  And  where,  sir,  do  you  keep  the  letters 
of  M.  Cuvillier  Fleury  ?  "  The  late  Due  de  la  Tremouille 
was  standing  next  to  me ;  we  looked  at  each  other,  and  smiled. 
Evidently  a  member  of  the  French  Academy  of  the  end  of  the 

141 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

nineteenth  century  could  not  feel  the  slightest  interest  in  any- 
thing else  but  Cuvillier  Fleury,  the  bourgeois  tutor  of  a  bour- 
geois pupil,  such  as  the  Due  d'Aumale  had  proved  himself  to 
be  in  the  eyes  of  a  certain  number  of  the  people  whom  he 
had  made  his  friends. 

Bonnat,  the  painter,  was  also  a  frequent  visitor  at  Chantilly, 
and  his  portrait  of  the  Due  is  one  of  the  best  pictures  that 
ever  came  from  his  brush.  The  Prince  is  represented  in  the 
uniform  of  a  general,  perhaps  the  same  which  he  wore 
on  the  day  when,  with  a  cruelty  one  would  have  preferred 
not  to  have  seen  in  him,  he  condemned  Marshal  Bazaine  to 
an  ignominious  death. 

It  is  related  that  the  Due  d'Aumale  used  to  say  that  he 
would  like  to  die  at  Chantilly,  and  that  he  had  even  left 
directions  how  his  funeral  was  to  take  place.  In  them  he 
expressed  a  wish  to  lie  in  state  in  the  chapel  for  a  day  or 
two,  near  the  hearts  of  the  Princes  de  Conde,  buried  there 
and  respected  by  the  Revolution  of  1789.  This  desire  was 
not  destined  to  be  fulfilled.  He  breathed  his  last  in  Sicily, 
at  his  castle  near  Palermo,  and  his  mortal  remains  were  brought 
back  straight  to  the  family  vault  at  Dreux.  Chantilly  stands 
empty  and  deserted  now,  save  on  the  days  when  tourists 
invade  it,  and  roam  in  the  rooms  which  have  rung  with  women's 
soft  laughter  and  listened  to  so  many  momentous  and  interest- 
ing conversations.  No  one,  even  among  the  old  servants  still 
left  in  charge  of  the  place,  ever  talks  of  the  Due  d'Aumale, 
and  mention  is  only  made  of  the  former  lords  of  the  Castle, 
of  those  illustrious  and  unfortunate  Princes  de  Conde,  the  souls 
of  whom  still  fill  the  old  walls  their  fame  has  immortalised 
for  ever.  In  the  Galerie  des  Batailles,  as  it  is  called,  the 
sword  of  the  hero  of  Rocroy  still  hangs,  tarnished  with  age, 
but  now  no  reverential  hand  ever  lifts  it ;  only  the  heavy 
fingers  of  a  sleepy  housemaid  dust  it  now  and  then.  The 

142 


The  Due  d'Aumale  and  Chantilly 

pictures,  the  portraits,  the  works  of  art  are  in  the  same  place 
they  occupied  when  an  intelligent  master  had  arranged  them 
with  loving  care.  In  the  long  dining-room  the  table  at  which 
so  many  celebrities  and  high-born  people  sat  is  still  there, 
with  chairs  standing  round  it ;  in  the  drawing-room  the  two 
arm-chairs  the  Due  and  Madame  de  Clinchamps  used  to 
occupy  are  in  the  same  place  ;  and  in  the  library  the  ink- 
stand has  been  left  open  with  its  pen  lying  beside  it.  Every- 
thing seems  a  little  dingy,  a  little  empty,  a  little  forsaken, 
everything  has  the  appearance  of  one  of  those  vast  temples 
of  old,  whence,  according  to  the  words  of  the  Russian  poet, 
"  the  idols  have  fled." 


CHAPTER    XIII 
THE  PRESIDENCY  OF  MARSHAL  MACMAHON 

WHEN  a  coalition  of  the  different  parties  who  constituted 
the  Right  in  the  National  Assembly  overturned  M.  Thiers, 
it  was  felt  everywhere,  though  perhaps  none  would  say  it 
aloud,  that  this  event  was  but  the  first  step  towards  the 
re-establishment  of  a  monarchy,  which  could  only  be  that 
of  the  Orleans  family.  In  fact,  the  Chamber  was  almost 
entirely  composed  of  Orleanists.  The  few  Bonapartists 
were  too  timid  to  come  out  openly  as  such  after  the 
catastrophes  that  had  accompanied  the  fall  of  the  Empire, 
but  they  were  determined  nevertheless  to  do  their  best  to 
bring  the  Prince  Imperial  back  to  France  as  Emperor.  There 
were  but  few  extreme  Radicals  in  the  Assembly.  Gambetta 
was  perhaps  the  most  advanced  member  in  that  direction, 
together  with  Jules  Ferry  and  Jules  Favre,  and  their  Radicalism 
would  be  considered  Conservatism  nowadays.  In  fact,  the 
Left,  or  what  was  called  the  Left,  resembled  rather  an  Oppo- 
sition as  it  is  understood  in  England,  than  a  revolutionary 
party  such  as  later  on  tried  to  snatch  the  government  of 
the  country  into  its  hands.  France  was  still  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  eighteen  years  of  Imperial  regime  it  had  gone 
through,  and  respect  for  authority  had  not  yet  died.  The 
elections,  which  had  been  conducted  under  the  eyes  of  the 
enemy,  had  brought  back  a  large  monarchical  majority  to 
the  Assembly.  That  majority  knew  very  well  that  so  long 
as  M.  Thiers  remained  at  the  head  of  the  Republic,  a  restora- 

144 


Marshal  MacMahon  as  President 

tion,  either  of  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  the  Comte  de  Paris, 
or  the  Prince  Imperial,  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  The  little 
man  would  have  defended  his  own  person  in  defending  the 
Republic.  His  manner  of  crushing  the  Commune,  indeed, 
had  shown  that  he  would  not  hesitate  before  a  display  of 
force,  and  would  be  quite  capable  of  sending  to  prison 
the  leaders  of  any  movement  to  destroy  the  government 
over  which  he  presided. 

But  when  M.  Thiers  had  been  put  aside,  the  field  was  free 
to  the  Royalists,  and  in  order  to  pave  the  way  to  a  restora- 
tion they  offered  the  Presidency  of  the  Republic  to  the 
Due  d'Aumale,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  see  his  way 
to  resign  his  functions  to  his  nephew,  and  be  strong  enough 
to  bring  him  back  in  triumph  to  the  Elysee. 

The  Due  d'Aumale  accepted.  Whether  he  would  have 
fulfilled  the  hopes  that  had  been  centred  in  him  is  another 
question.  My  opinion  is  that  he  would  have  shown  himself 
even  more  respectful  of  the  Republic  who  had  called  him 
to  her  head  than  M.  Thiers  or  Marshal  MacMahon.  But 
we  need  not  go  into  suppositions,  as  his  election  did  not  take 
place  on  account  of  the  Bonapartists  refusing  to  vote  for  him, 
being  frightened  at  the  thought  that  he  might  feel  tempted 
to  accomplish  another  coup  d'etat,  and  at  all  events  would 
exclude  them  from  the  ranks  of  his  advisers.  The  Due 
d'Aumale  once  put  aside,  there  remained  but  two  people  whose 
names  could  have  rallied  around  them  the  different  parties 
that  constituted  the  Assembly ;  they  were  Marshal  Canrobert 
and  Marshal  MacMahon. 

The  last  mentioned  was  chosen  partly  because  some 
believed  he  was  more  favourable  than  his  illustrious  colleague 
to  the  idea  of  an  Orleanist  restoration,  partly  because  it  was 
hoped  that  he  would  allow  others  to  govern  in  his  name. 
They  forgot  that,  being  used  to  obedience  in  military  matters, 

K  145 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

he  would  insist  on  being  listened  to  on  political  issues,  and 
that  his  very  honesty  would  not  allow  him  to  associate  him- 
self with  intrigue  in  governing  the  country,  whose  welfare  he 
would  consider  it  was  his  duty  to  promote  above  all  other 
considerations. 

Marshal  MacMahon  was  essentially  a  gentleman.  Not 
superabundantly  gifted  with  intelligence,  not,  perhaps,  possess- 
ing much  strength  of  character,  he  had,  nevertheless,  a  keen 
sense  of  right  and  wrong,  a  horror  of  anything  that  approached 
intrigue,  a  great  respect  for  his  duty,  before  the  accomplish- 
ment of  which  he  never  hesitated  no  matter  how  painful 
it  might  be  for  him  to  perform  it.  He  was  a  brave  soldier, 
an  honest  man,  but  he  was  no  politician,  and  whenever  he 
tried  to  interest  himself  in  politics  he  failed  utterly  in  his 
attempts,  partly  through  want  of  experience,  partly  through 
want  of  knowledge,  and  especially  because  he  never  knew 
how  to  find  among  the  people  who  surrounded  him  a  majority 
of  supporters. 

He  never  understood  why  he  had  been  elected  President 
of  the  Republic,  and  always  imagined  that  he  owed  it  to  his 
personal  merits.  This  illusion  was  carefully  fostered  by  his 
entourage,  and  by  ministers  who  wanted  to  persuade  him 
to  adopt  their  own  views.  It  was  a  great  mistake  on  their 
part,  because  had  the  Marshal  been  less  sure  of  the  infallibility 
of  his  own  judgments,  he  might  not  have  risked  the  coup 
d'etat  of  the  i6th  of  May,  which  threw  France  into  the  arms 
of  the  extreme  Republican  and  Radical  parties,  which  have 
ruled  it  ever  since. 

The  first  ministers  of  MacMahon  were  Orleanists  of  the 
purest  water,  and  they  did  their  best  to  bring  the  Orleans 
dynasty  back  to  the  throne,  especially  after  the  publication 
of  the  famous  letter  of  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  which  sealed 
for  ever  his  fate  as  a  Pretender.  They  were  all,  too,  gentle- 

146 


Marshal  MacMahon  as  President 

men  by  birth  and  by  education,  and  men  of  learning  and 
experience.  Two  among  them,  the  Due  de  Broglie  and  the 
Due  Decazes,  have  left  their  impress  on  the  history  of  France, 
and  deserve  its  gratitude  for  the  services  they  have 
rendered  to  her.  But  all  of  them  were  Utopian  in  the  sense 
that  they  believed  in  the  triumph  of  the  opinions  they  held. 
They  never  admitted  the  possibility  of  new  people  coming 
to  the  front,  new  ideas  developing  so  quickly  that  they  would 
have  to  be  reckoned  with  by  every  government  no  matter  to 
what  shade  it  belonged.  More  especially  did  they  fail  to  foresee 
the  triumph  of  the  Radical  and  revolutionary  elements.  They 
considered  them  as  of  no  serious  importance,  perhaps  because 
they  had  never  troubled  to  study  them  carefully,  and  so 
appreciate  their  strength. 

It  is  said  that  the  Due  d'Aumale,  when  sounded  as  to 
whether  or  not  he  would  accept  the  Presidency  of  the  Republic, 
and  under  what  conditions,  had  replied :  "  Je  veux  bien  etre 
une  transaction  ;  une  transition  jamais."  Marshal  MacMahon 
was  to  form  the  bridge  of  transition  from  the  government  of 
a  gentleman  to  that  of  a  political  man,  such  as  the  Presidents 
who  have  succeeded  him  have  all  essentially  been.  He  brought 
with  him  to  the  Elysee  traditions  that  are  still  respected, 
and  customs  that  have  become  a  dead  letter  since  his  fall. 
His  tenure  of  office  was  attended  with  great  dignity,  and 
an  amount  of  state  that  savoured  a  little  of  real  Court  life 
such  as  he  had  known  and  understood  how  to  represent. 
He  did  not  indulge  in  petty  economies  unworthy  of  his  high 
position,  and  kept  open  house  for  his  followers  and  friends, 
dispensing  at  the  same  time  a  generous  and  unbounded 
hospitality  in  regard  to  all  who  came  to  pay  their  respects 
to  him  in  his  capacity  as  First  Magistrate  of  the  French 
Republic.  His  wife,  too,  the  Duchesse  de  Magenta,  was 
a  really  great  lady,  by  birth  as  well  as  by  education,  and  she 

'47 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

seconded  him  to  the  best  of  her  ability — entertaining  for 
him  on  a  grand  scale,  receiving  foreign  ambassadors  with  a 
queenly  grace  combined  with  the  affability  of  a  true  grande 
dame.  La  Marechale,  as  she  was  familiarly  called  by  her 
friends,  was  a  remarkable  woman  in  her  way,  and  it  is  very 
much  to  be  regretted  that  she  refused  the  whole  time  that 
her  husband  remained  in  office  to  interest  herself  in  public 
affairs,  from  which  she  kept  aloof  as  much  as  she  possibly 
could ;  she  was  exceedingly  generous,  and  the  poor  of  Paris 
remember  her  to  this  day. 

When  the  Marshal  had  to  retire  into  private  life,  it  was 
found  that  he  had  not  only  spent  all  the  allowance  that  he 
received  from  the  State,  but  also  a  great  deal  of  his  own 
private  fortune,  so  that  when  he  gave  up  his  high  office,  he 
was  a  poorer  man  than  when  he  had  entered  upon  it.  The 
Duchesse  de  Magenta,  when  she  became  a  widow,  was  left 
with  less  than  moderate  means,  and  had  to  lead  a  simple 
existence,  devoid  of  accustomed  luxuries.  She  was  a 
very  modest  woman,  and  it  is  related  that  she  was  often 
to  be  met  in  the  morning  riding  in  an  omnibus,  with  a  basket 
on  her  arm,  doing  her  own  marketing  in  company  with  her 
cook  or  housemaid.  France  did  not  show  herself  grateful 
for  the  services  which,  in  spite  of  his  many  political  errors, 
Marshal  MacMahon  undoubtedly  rendered  to  her,  and  did 
not  trouble  itself  as  to  the  fate  of  his  widow  or  his  children. 
The  Duchesse  only  received  the  pension  attached  to  the 
military  position  which  her  late  husband  had  occupied,  and 
had  her  son,  the  present  Due  de  Magenta,  not  married  the 
daughter  of  the  Due  de  Chartres,  the  Princess  Marguerite  of 
Orleans,  he  would  have  hardly  had  enough  to  live  according 
to  the  exigencies  of  his  rank  as  a  captain  in  the  French  army. 
The  example  is  rare,  and  ought  not  to  be  forgotten,  especially 
nowadays,  when  the  first  preoccupation  of  people  in  power 

148 


Marshal  MacMahon  as  President 

is  to  lay  aside  as  much  money  as  they  can  against  the  time 
when  they  have  to  abandon  office. 

During  the  whole  time  that  Marshal  MacMahon  re- 
mained at  the  Elysee  he  kept  beside  him,  in  the  quality  of 
private  secretary,  the  Vicomte  Emmanuel  d'Harcourt,  one 
of  the  pleasantest,  most  amiable,  and  most  intelligent  men 
in  Paris  society.  He  was  perhaps  the  only  real  statesman 
among  the  many  politicians  who  surrounded  the  President, 
and,  had  he  only  been  listened  to,  it  is  probable  that  the 
monarchical  restoration,  so  much  desired  at  that  time  by  all 
the  sane  elements  in  French  political  life,  could  have  been 
brought  about.  Unfortunately,  the  majority  did  not  credit 
him  with  being  in  earnest,  and  the  few  who  did  so  were  too 
much  afraid  of  him  not  to  do  all  that  was  in  their  power  to 
counteract  his  influence  on  the  Due  de  Magenta.  It  is  related 
that  one  evening  when  the  President  happened  to  be  irritated  by 
all  these  perpetual  hints  he  was  receiving  concerning  Monsieur 
d'Harcourt,  he  asked  him  abruptly  :  "  Pourquoi,  est-ce  que 
vous  tenez  a  rester  aupres  de  moi,  et  que  vous  ne  cherchez 
pas  a  faire  partie  d'une  combinaison  ministerielle  ?  "  ("  Why 
do  you  care  to  stay  with  me,  why  don't  you  try  to  enter  into 
a  Cabinet  ?  ")  The  Vicomte  simply  replied  :  "  Parce  que 
j'ai  de  1'affection  pour  vous,  Monsieur  le  Marechal,  et  que  je 
ne  tiens  pas  a  vous  abandonner  aux  mains  de  ceux  qui  n'en 
ont  pas  "  ("  Because  I  have  an  affection  for  you,  Monsieur 
le  Marechal,  and  I  don't  care  to  abandon  you  to  those  who 
haven't") 

MacMahon  became  very  red,  but  never  more  after  that 
day  did  he  try  to  wound  the  feelings  of  a  man  in  whom 
he  recognised  a  sincere  friend. 

The  Republican  party  has  always  accused  Monsieur 
d'Harcourt  of  having  inspired  the  famous  letter  which  the 
Marshal  addressed  to  Jules  Simon,  and  which  brought  about 

149 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

what  is  known  as  "  the  crisis  of  the  i6th  of  May."  This 
reproach  was  partly  true  and  partly  unjust.  It  is  quite 
certain  that  the  Vicomte  encouraged  the  President  to 
dismiss  a  Cabinet  which  he  considered  far  too  advanced 
in  its  opinions,  and  especially  because  he  could  not  agree 
with  the  ideas  of  Jules  Simon,  its  chief,  notwithstanding  the 
great  intelligence  and  the  sincere  patriotism  of  the  latter. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  said,  and  it  cannot  be  re- 
peated too  loudly,  that  Emmanuel  d'Harcourt  always  told 
the  President  that  he  could  not  venture  upon  such  a  grave 
and  important  step  without  every  possible  precaution  to 
ensure  its  success.  First  of  all  he  advised  the  exercise 
of  a  considerable  pressure  on  the  new  elections  that  were 
bound  to  follow  upon  such  a  step  and  the  imprisonment 
of  a  few  leaders  whose  influence  might  make  them  turn 
against  the  government.  He  was  a  partisan  of  strong 
measures,  and  had  that  contempt  for  legality  that  all 
daring  statesmen  have  ever  professed.  The  Marshal,  on 
the  contrary,  would  never  have  dreamed  of  defying  the  law, 
and  he  refused  to  adopt  any  of  the  measures  which  not  only 
his  secretary  but  also  his  ministers — with  the  exception  of 
the  Due  de  Broglie,  whose  rigid  Protestant  principles,  which 
he  had  inherited  from  his  mother,  prevented  him  from  resorting 
to  any  violent  actions — recommended  to  him.  I  have  heard 
that  on  the  eve  of  these  elections,  which  had  such  an  enormous 
influence  on  the  future  destinies  of  France,  the  Vicomte 
d'Harcourt  was  discussing  them  with  M.  de  Fortoul,  who  was 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  they  were  both  deploring  the 
obstinacy  of  the  President  of  the  Republic,  who  would  not 
understand  that  once  he  had  entered  upon  the  road  of  resist- 
ance to  the  wishes  of  the  Chambers,  represented  by  the  ministers 
whom  he  had  dismissed,  he  was  bound  to  go  on  and  to 
enforce  his  wishes  upon  the  nation.  Fortoul  knew  he  had 

150 


Marshal  MacMahon  as  President 

been  called  by  the  confidence  which  the  Due  de  Magenta  had 
in  his  honesty  to  the  difficult  post  which  he  occupied,  but  he 
was  well  aware  that  he  did  not  possess  the  latter's  sympathies, 
so  asked  the  Vicomte  d'Harcourt  whether  there  was  no 
means  by  which  the  Chief  of  the  State  could  be  convinced 
that  it  would  be  cowardice  not  to  see  to  the  bitter  end  the 
adventure  in  which  he  had  engaged  himself.  He  got  from 
him  this  characteristic  reply  :  "  No  !  One  cannot  convince 
him  ;  because  he  is  a  man  who,  though  in  a  position  to 
command,  has  never  forgotten  how  to  obey." 

Fortoul  understood,  and  did  not  attempt  further  to  shake 
the  convictions  of  the  President,  but  prepared  himself  to  lose 
the  game  which  with  a  little  energy  might  so  easily  have 
been  won. 

Emmanuel  d'Harcourt  was  the  man  who  best  under- 
stood that  honest,  feeble,  and  in  some  parts  enigmatical 
character  of  Marshal  MacMahon.  Apart  from  him  it  is  to 
be  doubted  whether  anyone  save  the  Marquis  d'Abzac,  who 
was  attached  to  his  person  during  long  years,  ever  guessed 
what  went  on  in  that  narrow  but  well-intentioned  mind. 
The  Marquis  d'Abzac  was  at  one  time  a  leading  figure  in  Paris 
society,  and  I  think  that  no  one  who  has  ever  known  him 
has  forgotten  the  charming,  amiable  man  he  was,  the  perfect 
gentleman  he  always  showed  himself,  and  the  true  friend 
he  remained  to  all  those  who  had  treated  him  as  such.  He 
was  the  leading  spirit  of  the  little  Court  of  the  Elysee,  where 
he  organised  all  the  balls  and  receptions  that  gave  it  such 
brilliancy  during  the  tenure  of  office  of  the  Due  de  Magenta, 
when  all  that  was  illustrious  in  France,  even  the  most  con- 
firmed Royalists,  considered  it  an  honour  to  pay  their 
respects  to  the  Head  of  the  State  and  to  his  amiable  wife. 
He  had  the  entire  confidence  of  the  President,  who,  perhaps, 
was  more  inclined  to  give  it  to  a  soldier  like  the  General 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

d'Abzac  than  to  a  civilian  with  whom  his  military  soul  had 
but  little  in  common,  and  whose  subtleties  of  reasoning  appeared 
too  complicated  for  his  simple  mind.  The  Marquis  had 
married  a  Russian,  Mile.  Lazareff,  whose  mother  had  been 
a  Princess  of  Courland,  related  to  the  famous  Duchesse  de 
Sagan.  His  wife  had  vast  estates  in  Silesia,  and  though 
he  did  not  live  with  her  yet  he  visited  there  often,  and 
always  made  an  appearance  at  the  German  Court,  where 
he  was  essentially  a  persona  grata,  ever  since  he  had  accom- 
panied Marshal  MacMahon  when  the  latter  had  been  sent 
to  Berlin  as  an  Ambassador  of  Napoleon  III.  to  represent 
that  Sovereign  at  the  coronation  of  William  I.  as  King  of  Prussia. 
Very  often  his  visits  to  the  German  Court  allowed  him 
to  clear  up  misunderstandings  between  the  French  Govern- 
ment and  the  Prussian  Foreign  Office ;  misunderstandings 
that  were  often  provoked  by  the  state  of  antagonism  which 
existed  between  Prince  Bismarck  and  the  French  Ambassador, 
the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut  Biron,  about  whom  I  shall  have 
more  to  say  presently.  The  German  Chancellor  liked  the 
Marquis  d'Abzac,  and  frequently  took  him  into  his  confidence, 
well  aware  of  his  tact  and  discretion.  I  have  heard  from 
a  person  very  much  au  courant  of  what  was  going  on 
in  the  Wilhelmstrasse,  that  Bismarck  once  expressed  himself 
to  the  aide-de-camp  of  the  President  of  the  French  Republic, 
concerning  the  monarchical  intrigues  that  were  going  on  in 
Paris.  He  spoke  with  a  mixture  of  contempt  and  regret  of  the 
woeful  way  they  were  conducted,  and  of  what  small  chances 
they  had  of  being  successful.  D'Abzac  replied  that  of  course 
it  was  not  for  him  to  venture  an  opinion  on  a  subject  that 
did  not  enter  at  all  into  his  activities,  but  that  he  had  always 
imagined  that  Prussia  was  very  much  adverse  to  the  re- 
establishment  of  a  Monarchy  in  France.  The  Prince  imme- 
diately replied  :  "  You  are  entirely  mistaken,  we  have  nothing 

152 


Marshal  MacMahon  as  President 

against  it,  our  objection  is  to  the  people  who  would  inevitably 
come  into  power  and  prominence  with  it.  If  we  could  see 
in  Paris  a  King  without  those  who  want  at  the  present  moment 
to  proclaim  him,  we  should,  on  the  contrary,  feel  far  more 
reassured  than  we  do  now  at  the  immediate  future  both  of 
France  and  of  Germany.  Neither  the  Comte  de  Paris  nor 
the  Prince  Imperial  would,  nor  could,  risk  position  by  declar- 
ing a  war  against  us,  the  price  of  which  might  be  the  loss 
of  the  newly  recovered  throne.  But  we  greatly  dread 
all  the  councillors  and  advisers  who  would  be  eager  to 
prove  before  the  country  who  had  sent  them  to  represent  it, 
that  they  had  been  right  in  changing  the  form  of  the  govern- 
ment, because  the  one  whom  they  had  helped  to  call  into 
existence  was  ready  to  win  back  for  the  nation  the  provinces 
as  well  as  the  prestige  that  it  had  lost." 

Later  on,  when  speaking  of  this  remarkable  conversa- 
tion with  one  of  his  intimate  friends,  the  Marquis  d'Abzac 
had  been  obliged  to  own  that  the  German  Chancellor  had 
been  right  in  his  appreciation  of  a  situation  he  understood 
better  than  did  many  Frenchmen. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  obstinacy  that  was  one  of 
the  characteristics  of  MacMahon.  Those  who  induced  him 
so  unnecessarily  to  assert  himself  in  regard  to  Jules  Simon, 
played  on  that  chord  when  they  persuaded  him  that  it  was 
his  duty  to  check  the  growing  tide  of  Radicalism,  and  to 
attempt  to  save  the  Republic  from  those  who  were  leading 
it  into  a  path  which  would  alienate  from  it  the  sympathy  of 
Europe,  at  a  time  when  France  sorely  needed  this  support. 
He  imagined  that  by  dismissing  his  Cabinet  he  was  doing  a 
great  thing  for  his  country,  but  being  the  faithful  slave  of 
his  convictions,  i.e.  that  the  nation  ought  to  be  free  to  express 
its  opinions  and  its  wishes  as  to  the  form  of  government  it 
liked,  he  did  not  pursue  what  he  had  begun  so  well,  and  refused 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

to  allow  the  Cabinet  whom  he  had  called  together  to  fight 
the  battle  to  the  bitter  end.  For  thus  he  might  have  ensured, 
with  the  help  of  some  moral  pressure,  the  triumph  of  the  step 
which  he  had  taken  more  violently  than  wisely.  The  result  is 
well  known,  and  though  the  death  of  M.  Thiers,  which  happened 
on  the  very  eve  of  the  elections,  carried  away  one  of  his  greatest 
and  most  powerful  adversaries,  yet  the  Radical  party  secured 
a  complete  victory.  One  of  the  greatest  mistakes  that  Marshal 
MacMahon  ever  made  in  his  life  was  in  failing  to  resign  when 
the  result  of  the  elections  became  known.  He  sacrificed  his 
ministers,  he  allowed  those  who  had  borne  the  brunt  of  the 
battle  to  be  ousted  out  of  the  field  and  almost  out  of  political 
life,  which  for  some  of  them  remained  fast  closed  after  that  ex- 
perience, and  he  himself,  instead  of  following  them  in  their 
retreat,  remained  still  Head  of  the  State,  and  continued  to  occupy 
the  Elysee,  losing  the  esteem  of  those  who  had  considered  him, 
until  that  time  at  any  rate,  a  respectable  nonentity.  He 
received  the  new  ministers  whom  his  own  stupidity  had  brought 
into  power,  he  still  discussed  with  them,  and  he  went  on  trying 
to  push  forward  his  own  opinions  and  his  own  wishes,  un- 
observant of  all  the  slights  that  were  continually  poured  upon 
him.  The  only  time  that  his  Cabinet  seriously  tried  to  assure 
itself  of  his  help  in  a  matter  of  international  politics — the 
advisability  of  making  some  advances  to  Russia  in  view  of  a 
possible  rapprochement  in  the  future — he  violently  opposed 
the  idea,  invoking  the  remembrances  of  the  Crimean  War, 
which,  as  someone  wittily  remarked,  "  he  had  gone  through, 
but  not  outlived."  After  that  no  one  attempted  even  to 
keep  him  in  the  current  of  the  affairs  of  the  government, 
and  after  the  elections  which  took  place  in  the  Senate,  and 
which  resulted  in  a  majority  holding  the  same  ideas  as  those 
which  already  existed  in  the  Chamber,  the  Marshal  himself  saw 
that  nothing  was  left  to  him  but  to  resign,  and,  bereft  of  the 


Marshal  MacMahon  as  President 

prestige  which  would  have  attached  to  his  name  had  he 
done  so  after  the  i6th  of  May  had  been  condemned  by  the 
nation,  he  retired  into  private  life,  and  also  into  obscurity, 
which  is  far  worse. 

By  a  strange  coincidence  he  died  just  when  that  Russian 
alliance  to  which  he  had  been  so  opposed  was  very  near  to 
becoming  an  accomplished  fact.  Also,  he  was  followed  to  his 
grave  by  a  deputation  of  Russian  sailors,  headed  by  Admiral 
Avellan,  who  came  to  Paris  from  Toulon  during  the  memorable 
visit  paid  to  that  town  by  the  Russian  squadron  which 
had  been  sent  to  return  the  visit  paid  to  Cronstadt  by  the 
French  fleet  a  few  months  before.  It  was  one  of  those  freaks 
of  destiny  which  occur  so  often  in  life,  that  at  his  funeral, 
too,  should  be  represented  the  nation  against  whom  he  had 
fought  in  the  Crimean  fields  and  at  Sebastopol,  and  whose 
soldiers  he  had  never  expected  would,  together  with  those 
he  had  commanded,  fire  the  last  volleys  over  his  grave.  The 
old  warrior,  who,  in  spite  of  his  mistakes  and  errors,  still 
represented  something  of  the  glory  of  his  country,  and  was  one 
of  the  remnants  of  an  epoch  and  of  a  regime  that  had  given  to 
the  world  the  illusion  of  a  strong  and  powerful  France,  was 
accompanied  to  his  last  resting-place  by  the  sincere  regrets  of 
all  those  who  had  loved  the  man,  while  they  distrusted  and  con- 
demned the  statesman,  and  perhaps  even  despised  his  capacity 
as  a  politician.  But  his  personal  honesty  had  come  out  unim- 
paired from  the  trials  of  his  public  career,  his  honour  had  never 
been  questioned,  his  courage  had  never  been  the  subject 
of  the  slightest  doubt.  He  deserved  fully  the  honours  which 
were  paid  to  him  at  his  death,  and  the  homage  that  France 
rendered  to  him  at  his  funeral. 


155 


CHAPTER   XIV 

Two  GREAT  MINISTERS 

I  HAVE  mentioned  the  Due  de  Broglie  and  the  Due  Decazes. 
They  were  the  last  two  ministers  of  the  old  school  of  which 
the  Third  French  Republic  could  boast.  After  them  came 
mostly  self-made  men,  who  were  perhaps  cleverer  than  they 
had  been  but  who  did  not  possess  the  traditions  of  old  France, 
and  who  brought  along  with  them  not  only  a  change  of  policy 
but  a  change  in  political  manners  and  customs.  After  the 
two  great  ministers  of  whom  I  am  about  to  speak,  the  Republic 
became  democratic,  far  removed  from  the  aristocratic 
country  it  had  been  whilst  they  were  ruling  it. 

The  Due  de  Broglie  was  the  son  of  remarkable  parents. 
His  father,  the  old  Duke  Victor,  had  been  a  writer,  a  thinker, 
a  politician  and  an  orator  of  no  mean  talent ;  one,  moreover, 
who,  amidst  the  corruption  which  had  prevailed  at  the  time 
of  the  first  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  had  succeeded  in 
keeping  his  hands  clean  from  every  suspicion.  He  showed 
the  great  independence  of  his  noble,  straightforward  character 
when  almost  alone  among  his  colleagues  in  the  House  of 
Peers  he  refused  to  vote  for  the  condemnation  of  Marshal 
Ney. 

The  old  Due's  wife  was  the  lovely  Duchesse  de  Broglie, 
Albertine  de  Stael,  the  daughter  of  the  celebrated  Madame  de 
Stael,  and  the  granddaughter  of  Necker.  Madame  de  Broglie 
was  one  of  those  figures  who  leave  their  impress  on  posterity, 
and  whose  influence  survives  them  for  a  long  time.  She  had, 

156 


Two  Great  Ministers 

allied  to  considerable  beauty,  a  noble  soul,  a  great  intelligence, 
and  strict  Protestant  principles,  which  had  communicated 
a  tinge  of  austerity  to  all  that  she  said,  did  or  wrote. 

Her  son  Albert  inherited  much  of  this  Calvinistic  severity, 
which  gave  him   sometimes  a  harsh   appearance   and  harsh 
manners.     He  was  one  of  those  men  who  never  will  accept 
a  compromise,   or  resort  to  diplomacy  of  whatever  kind,  to 
achieve   anything  they  have  made  up   their    minds   to   do» 
He  was  unusually  well  read,  a  man  of  considerable  erudi- 
tion, who  was  more  at  his  ease  at  his  writing-table  than 
in  a  drawing-room.     He  had  never  been  frivolous,  as  one  of 
his  friends  once   said,   and  had  but  seldom  shown  himself 
amiable.     This  absence  of  human  passions  made  him  some- 
times unjust  towards  those  who  had  felt  their  influence,  or 
allowed  themselves  to  be  carried  away  by  them.     One  could 
not  imagine  a  time  when  the  Due  de  Broglie  had  been  young, 
nor  a  moment  when  he  had  not  been  absorbed  by  his  duties 
or  his  studies.     He  was  a  living  encyclopaedia,  and  was  con- 
tinually improving  his  own  mind  by  devoting  his  attention 
to  some  serious  subject  or  other.     When  he  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  Academy  no  one  was  surprised  at  it,  the  con- 
trary would  have   seemed  wonderful  because   he   appeared 
to  have  been  born  an  Academician,  and  to  be  out  of  place 
anywhere  else  but  among  the  ranks  of  that  select  company 
known  as  the  Institut  de  France. 

The  Due  de  Broglie  possessed  a  high  moral  character. 
He  had  strong  prejudices,  no  indulgence  for  others,  perhaps 
because  he  had  never  had  any  for  himself;  he  was  narrow- 
minded  in  some  things,  but  generous  in  everything  that  did 
not  touch  on  the  question  of  principles.  He  came  from  an 
Orleanist  family,  and  never  wavered  in  his  allegiance  to 
the  younger  branch  of  the  house  of  France,  and  when  he 
accepted  office,  under  Marshal  MacMahon,  he  certainly  did 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

so  with  the  idea  that  he  could  in  time  bring  back  Philippe 
VII.  to  Paris  as  King. 

In  spite  of  his  apparent  coldness  and  austerity,  he  had 
strong  political  passions,  the  only  ones  that  his  soul  had  ever 
known.  These  passions  made  him  sometimes  lose  sight  of 
the  obstacles  in  his  way,  and  the  natural  hauteur  of  a 
grand  seigneur  made  him  despise  adversaries  that  he  ought 
either  to  have  tried  to  conciliate  or  else  to  have  reckoned 
with  more  carefully  than  he  did.  He  was  not  sympathetic, 
and  very  few  liked  him,  but  this  latter  fact  did  not  trouble 
him  much.  The  only  thing  he  cared  for  was  to  be  respected, 
esteemed,  honoured  by  his  foes  as  well  as  by  his  friends.  No 
man  was  ever  more  respectful  of  a  given  word  than  the  Due 
de  Broglie,  and  he  would  rather  have  died  than  have  broken  a 
promise  once  made,  no  matter  how  rash  that  promise  might 
have  been.  He  was  certainly  not  a  politician  of  the  modern 
school,  and  both  for  him  and  for  his  country  it  might  have 
been  better  had  be  confined  himself  to  the  historical  studies 
which  have  made  for  him  such  a  great  name  in  modern 
French  literature  of  the  graver  sort. 

An  amusing  anecdote  is  related  of  the  Due  de  Broglie. 
He  was  staying  with  one  of  his  friends  in  the  country,  and 
one  day  took  up  a  novel  which,  forgotten,  had  been  left  on 
the  table.  With  the  attention  that  he  always  gave  to  every- 
thing he  did,  he  read  it  through — it  was  the  "  Histoire  de 
Sybille,"  of  Octave  Feuillet — and  then  gravely  asked  his  host 
whether  one  of  the  heroes  of  it  was  still  alive  ?  When  the 
latter,  more  than  surprised,  inquired  what  he  meant,  he 
found  out  that  the  Duke  had  thought  the  book  treated  of 
facts  that  had  really  occurred,  and  had  not  imagined  that 
the  tale  was  just  a  novel.  "  Why  waste  one's  time  in  writing 
about  things  that  have  never  existed  ?  "  he  remarked. 
"  Life  is  too  short  to  afford  it !  "  And  when  Feuillet  was 

158 


Two  Great  Ministers 

elected  to  the  Academy  he  would  never  consent  to  give  him 
his  vote,  saying  that  through  him  he  had  lost  a  few  hours  he 
might  have  employed  in  reading  something  more  useful  than 
a  mere  romance.  For  he  could  not  forgive  the  fact  that 
it  had  interested  him  in  spite  of  his  abomination  for  that 
kind  of  literature. 

One  can  imagine  that  a  man  with  such  strength  of  char- 
acter could  not  well  understand  the  weakness  of  Marshal 
MacMahon,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  two 
serious  discussions  during  the  few  months  that  elapsed 
between  the  birth  and  the  fall  of  that  Cabinet  were  always 
known  in  the  annals  of  Parliamentary  France  as  "  the  Cabinet 
of  the  i6th  of  May."  The  Due  de  Broglie  would  have  liked 
to  carry  through  the  elections  under  the  flag  of  Orleanism, 
to  which  he  was  so  very  much  attached,  and  for  whose 
profit,  he  had  imagined,  the  Marshal  had  decided  upon  his 
coup  d'etat  when  he  dismissed  Jules  Simon.  When  he  per- 
ceived that  the  Due  de  Magenta  had  simply  given  way  to 
an  attack  of  bad  temper,  the  disillusion  which  he  experienced 
was  very  great,  but  he  did  not  think  it  right  to  desert  the 
post  which  he  had  accepted  under  a  misapprehension,  and  he 
and  his  colleagues  only  left  office  when  the  result  of  the 
elections  made  it  but  too  apparent  that  their  day  had  come 
to  an  end. 

The  Due  de  Broglie  never  returned  to  political  life  after 
that  effort.  He  spent  the  rest  of  his  existence  in  retirement, 
absorbed  in  his  studies,  and  seeking  among  his  books  an 
enjoyment  that  nothing  else  could  give  him.  One  did  not 
meet  him  often  in  society,  but  sometimes  he  put  in  an  appear- 
ance at  the  house  parties  given  by  his  son,  Prince  Amedee  de 
Broglie,  at  his  splendid  castle  of  Chaumont  sur  Loire,  once 
the  residence  of  Catherine  de  Medici. 

Prince  Amedee  had  married  an  heiress,  Mademoiselle  Say, 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  daughter  of  the  great  sugar  refiner,  who  had  brought  him 
something  like  twenty  million  francs  as  her  dowry.  When  her 
marriage  took  place  one  was  not  used  yet  in  aristocratic 
France  to  these  unions  between  the  representatives  of  great 
names  and  daughters  of  the  people,  and  one  evening  at  a 
party  given  in  honour  of  the  young  bride  the  Comte  Horace 
de  Choiseul,  well  known  for  his  caustic  tongue,  approached 
her,  and  showing  her  a  spot  on  her  dress  made  by  an  ice  that 
had  fallen  upon  it,  he  said  :  "  Vous  avez  une  tache  de  sucre 
sur  votre  robe,  Prjncesse  "  ("  You  have  a  spot  of  sugar  on 
your  gown,  Princess  ").  Madame  de  Broglie  turned  round, 
and  instantly  retorted  :  "  Je  pref ere  une  tache  de  sucre  a 
une  tache  de  sang  "  ("I  prefer  a  spot  of  sugar  to  a  spot  of 
blood"),  thus  alluding  to  the  murder  of  the  Comte 
de  Choiseul's  mother,  the  Duchesse  de  Praslin,  by  her 
husband. 

She  is  an  amiable  woman  that  Princesse  de  Broglie,  in 
spite  of  her  sharp  tongue,  and  certainly  she  is  one  of  the 
pleasantest  in  Paris  society  at  present. 

The  Due  Decazes  was  a  great  contrast  to  the  Due  de 
Broglie.  Just  as  clever,  though  perhaps  not  so  learned  as 
the  latter,  he  was,  moreover,  a  most  accomplished  man  of 
the  world  in  the  fullest  sense  of  that  expression.  He  made 
himself  friends  wherever  he  went,  even  among  the  ranks  of 
his  adversaries.  During  the  seven  years  that  he  remained  in 
charge  of  the  Foreign  Office,  in  several  Cabinets,  he  succeeded 
in  winning  for  France  the  respect  of  Europe,  and  in  present- 
ing the  idea  that  though  governments  might  change  in  that 
country,  its  foreign  policy  would  not  depart  from  the  line 
it  had  taken.  He  was  frank,  loyal,  a  cultured,  gentle,  and 
an  excellent,  though  not  a  brilliant,  politician.  Placed  in 
office  at  a  very  difficult  moment,  just  after  the  disasters  of 
the  Franco-German  War  had  entirely  destroyed  the  prestige 

160 


Two  Great  Ministers 

of  his  fatherland,  he  contrived  to  raise  it  in  the  opinion  of 
foreign  governments,  and  to  give  them  a  high  idea  of  its  moral 
resources  and  dignity. 

The  advent  of  the  Republic  had,  of  course,  been  received 
with  every  feeling  of  apprehension  and  distrust,  and  the 
old  Monarchists,  who  had  already  considerably  hesitated 
before  they  admitted  the  Bonapartes  as  their  equals,  could 
not  but  look  with  distrust  at  the  political  adventurers  who 
had  replaced  them.  The  Due  Decazes  contrived  to  win  for 
the  governments  of  M.  Thiers  and  of  Marshal  MacMahon  the 
respect  of  all  those  with  whom  they  had  to  be  in  contact ; 
he  continued,  also,  the  tradition  of  the  grand  manners  which 
had  distinguished  the  Due  de  Morny,  Count  Walewski,  the 
Marquis  de  Moustiers,  and  all  the  high-born  gentlemen  to 
whom  had  been  entrusted,  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
the  task  of  speaking  in  the  name  of  France  abroad.  He 
renewed  old  links,  and  succeeded  in  forming  new  friendships 
which  were  to  be  very  useful  to  him  as  well  as  to  his 
country  in  the  future. 

The  name  of  the  Due  Decazes  will  always  remain  asso- 
ciated with  the  so-called  German  aggression  in  1875,  when, 
it  is  still  currently  believed  in  some  quarters,  the  Prussian 
Government  wanted  to  declare  war  against  France,  a  war 
that  was  only  averted  by  the  intervention  of  the  Emperor 
Alexander  II.  of  Russia,  to  whom  the  French  Foreign  Minister 
had  appealed  for  help.  The  story  has  been  related  a  thousand 
times,  but  what  has  not  been  said  is  that  with  all  his  in- 
telligence, his  tact  and  his  political  experience  the  Due 
Decazes  fell  a  victim  to  the  intrigues  of  the  French  Ambassador 
in  Berlin,  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut  Biron. 

M.  de  Gontaut  was  one  of  those  noblemen  of  the  old  school 
who  have  forgotten  nothing,  and  learned  but  very  little. 
He  had  intelligence,  tact,  knowledge  of  the  world,  but  he  was 
L  161 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

devoted  to  himself,  and  entertained  the  greatest  respect 
for  and  opinion  of  his  personal  capacities. 

He  had  several  relations  at  the  Court  of  Berlin  among 
the  members  of  the  highest  aristocracy,  who,  unfortunately 
for  him,  were  among  the  enemies  and  adversaries  of  Prince 
Bismarck.  He  listened  to  them,  appealed  to  them  to  carry 
to  the  ears  of  the  Emperor  William,  and  especially  to  those 
of  the  Empress  Augusta,  many  things  he  would  have  done 
better  to  keep  to  himself,  or  else  to  communicate  direct  to 
the  German  Chancellor ;  he  persisted  in  carrying  a  personal 
line  of  policy,  by  which  he  hoped  to  put  spokes  in  the  wheels 
of  the  great  minister  who  held  the  destinies  of  Germany  in 
his  hands,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be  influenced  by  gossip 
which  was  purely  founded  on  suppositions  and  old  women's 
love  of  slander. 

The  result  of  such  conduct  became  but  too  soon  apparent. 
Bismarck  was  not  a  man  to  allow  himself  to  be  treated  as  a 
negligible  quantity,  and  he  very  soon  began  in  his  turn  a 
campaign  against  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut,  making  him  feel 
by  slights  on  every  possible  occasion  that  it  would  be  advisable 
for  him  to  retire  from  the  field  of  action,  at  least  in  Berlin. 
M.  de  Gontaut  was  fond  of  his  position  as  an  ambassador. 
Moreover,  his  was  such  an  extraordinary  vanity  that  he 
allowed  himself  very  easily  to  be  convinced  that  by  remaining 
at  his  post  he  was  rendering  the  greatest  of  services  to  his 
country,  because  no  other  man  in  his  place  could  use  the 
resources  he  had  at  his  disposal  so  successfully  in  learning  the 
secrets  of  the  Berlin  Court  and  of  the  Prussian  Foreign  Office. 

It  was  M.  de  Gontaut  who  started  the  war  scare,  which 
existed  only  in  his  imagination  and  had  sprung  from  the  im- 
portance he  attributed  to  himself.  Bismarck  replied  in  his 
memoirs  to  the  insinuations  that  were  made  against  him  at 
that  time,  and  he  proved  that  neither  he  nor  Von  Moltke 

162 


Two  Great  Ministers 

and  his  staff  had  ever  had  the  idea  of  attacking  France 
in  1875.  I  do  not  think  that  any  serious  politician  now 
believes  that  there  was  the  slightest  foundation  for  the  alarm 
that  the  French  Ambassador  had  raised.  But  at  that  time 
it  was  generally  believed  that  European  peace  had  been  in 
peril  for  a  few  days  until  the  Emperor  of  Russia  had  put  in 
his  word  and,  as  it  were,  forbidden  his  Imperial  uncle  to 
fulfil  intentions  the  latter  had  never  had  for  one  single 
moment. 

To  anyone  who  knew  Prince  Bismarck  it  would  be  needless 
to  point  out  how  these  manoeuvres  of  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut 
exasperated  him.  He  judged  them  for  what  they  were : 
Gontaut's  desire  to  make  himself  important,  and  to  give 
himself  the  appearance  of  having  been  the  saviour  of  France. 
In  a  conversation  which  he  had  many  years  later  with  Count 
Muravieff,  at  that  time  Councillor  of  Embassy  in  Berlin, 
and  later  on  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  in  Russia,  the  German 
Chancellor  alluded  to  the  incidents  which  had  then  taken 
place  and  expressed  his  astonishment  that  a  shrewd 
politician  like  the  Due  Decazes  could  have  been  taken  in  by 
the  nonsense,  les  betises,  as  he  termed  them,  that  M.  de  Gontaut 
was  continually  writing  to  him.  Count  Muravieff,  who  had 
been  in  Paris  at  that  particular  moment,  could  have  replied, 
had  he  liked,  that  the  Due  was  not  so  guilty  as  it  appeared, 
because  he  was  surrounded  by  a  group  of  partisans  of  the 
Orleans  family,  who  all  pretended  to  be  au  courant  of  what 
was  going  on  in  Berlin,  through  their  cousins  who  were  living 
there,  and  who  did  their  best  to  corroborate  all  that  he  heard 
from  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut  concerning  the  plans  of  Prince 
Bismarck  and  his  treacherous  intentions  in  regard  to  France. 

At  that  period  Orleanism  was  flourishing,  and  succeeded  even 
in  influencing  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  who  found  it 
difficult  to  disbelieve  all  that  was  told  him  on  every  side, 

163 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  which  he  did  not  suspect  as  coming  from  the  same  source. 
It  is  certain  that  he  fell  into  the  snare,  and  that  when  he 
appealed  to  Alexander  II.,  it  was  in  the  firm  belief  that  a 
new  invasion  of  his  country  was  about  to  take  place.  He 
found  an  ally  in  the  person  of  old  Prince  Gortschakov,  whose 
vanity  seized  with  alacrity  the  opportunity  that  was  given 
to  him  to  appear  before  the  world  in  the  capacity  of  the  saviour 
of  France  Newspapers  were  put  into  motion.  The  Times, 
through  its  Paris  correspondent,  the  famous  Blowitz,  started 
the  alarm,  and  soon  it  became  an  established  fact  that  it 
was  through  the  intervention  of  Russia  alone  that  France 
had  been  snatched  from  the  grip  of  Germany.  The  legend 
still  subsists  with  some  people ;  its  chief  result  was  that  we 
incurred  the  enmity  of  Prince  Bismarck,  who  might  have 
acted  differently  in  regard  to  Russia  during  the  Berlin  Con- 
gress had  it  not  been  for  this  unwholesome  incident. 

Before  closing  with  this  subject  I  must  relate  the  following 
anecdote.  When  the  German  Foreign  Office  insisted  on  M. 
de  Gontaut  contradicting  in  his  dispatches  to  his  government 
the  alarming  news  he  had  been  giving  to  it,  he  repaired  to 
the  house  of  a  lady  to  whom  he  was  related,  and  who 
occupied  an  important  position  at  the  Berlin  Court,  to  ask 
her  advice  as  to  what  he  was  to  do.  A  council  of  war,  if 
such  an  expression  can  be  employed,  was  assembled,  in  which 
the  old  Due  de  Sagan  and  his  wife,  the  clever  and 
amiable  Duchesse,  took  part,  and  discussed  gravely  whether 
or  not  the  desires  of  Prince  Bismarck  should  be  fulfilled, 
and  his  denial  telegraphed  to  Paris.  After  long  discussions 
it  was  at  last  decided  that  M.  de  Gontaut  would  write  about 
it  later  on,  but  that  it  would  be  wisest  to  allow  a  few  days 
to  elapse  before  communicating  the  news  to  the  French 
public,  and  that,  consequently,  it  was  not  necessary  to  tele- 
graph anything  for  the  present.  They  could  not  allow  the 

164 


Two  Great  Ministers 

legend  that  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut  had  saved  France  from 
destruction  to  die  so  soon. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  for  the  Due  Decazes  to  have 
discerned  right  from  wrong  in  such  a  mass  of  intrigue.  It 
is  to  his  honour  that,  notwithstanding  the  provocations  he 
received,  he  succeeded  in  keeping  calm,  cool  and  dignified, 
and  that  he  tried  seriously  to  do  his  best  for  his  country's 
interest.  He  was  a  slow  worker,  and  this,  perhaps,  was 
his  bane,  because  the  man  whom  he  had  put  at  the  head  of 
his  private  chancery,  the  Marquis  de  Beauvoir,  who  was 
his  brother-in-law,  having  married  the  sister  of  the  Duchesse 
Decazes,  was  careless  in  the  extreme,  and  often  allowed 
subordinates  to  do  the  work  he  ought  to  have  kept  entirely 
under  his  own  control.  All  these  circumstances  produced  a 
certain  amount  of  confusion,  but  nevertheless  in  spite  of 
these  imperfections  the  administration  of  the  Due  Decazes 
gave  great  dignity  to  the  Foreign  Office,  and  considerably 
raised  the  prestige  of  France  abroad.  He  was  not,  perhaps, 
a  genius,  but  he  was  a  great  minister  on  account  of  his  honesty, 
his  loyalty,  the  gentlemanly  qualities  that  distinguished  him 
and  that  kept  him  aloof  from  every  dirty  intrigue  where  his 
reputation  might  have  foundered.  When  the  ministry  pre- 
sided over  by  the  Due  de  Broglie  had  to  retire,  the  Due  Decazes 
followed  it  in  its  retreat,  though  asked  both  by  Marshal 
MacMahon  and  by  the  leaders  of  the  Republican  party  which 
the  elections  had  brought  to  power,  to  keep  his  functions. 
He  felt  he  had  nothing  in  common  with  the  men  who  were 
henceforward  to  rule  his  country,  and  he  persisted  in  his 
determination  to  give  up  public  life.  He  did  not  long  sur- 
vive the  fall  of  his  party,  and  when  he  died  no  one  ever  dared 
to  raise  one  word  against  him  nor  to  question  his  deep 
patriotism,  and  his  devotion  to  the  country  he  had  loved 
so  well  and  served  so  faithfully. 

165 


CHAPTER   XV 

PARIS  SOCIETY  UNDER  THE  PRESIDENCY  OF  MARSHAL 
MACMAHON 

A  GREAT  change  came  over  Paris  society  after  the  fall  of  the 
Empire.  Some  of  its  most  brilliant  elements  disappeared 
altogether,  whilst  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  about  which 
nothing  had  been  heard  for  such  a  long  time,  came  suddenly 
to  the  front,  partly  through  its  associations  with  the  Marechale 
MacMahon,  who,  being  nee  de  Castries,  was  considered  as 
one  of  the  Faubourg,  and  partly  through  the  certainty  that 
prevailed  in  many  circles  as  to  the  imminence  of  a  monarchical 
restoration,  for  which  everybody  was  prepared.  It  is  true 
that  the  first  two  years  which  followed  upon  the  conclusion 
of  peace  with  Germany  were  dull  ones,  so  far  as  public  amuse- 
ments were  concerned,  but  little  by  little  Parisian  social  life 
began  again,  though  somewhat  on  a  different  plane  than 
during  the  Empire.  Whilst  the  latter  had  lasted,  the  families 
belonging  to  the  highest  aristocracy,  which  had  ruled  France 
in  olden  times,  had  kept  aloof  from  the  social  movement 
that  had  been  so  very  luxurious  and  so  very  gay  when  the 
lovely  Empress  Eugenie  had  presided  over  it.  They  had 
lived  for  the  most  in  the  country  in  their  ancestral  castles, 
where  they  had  economised,  and  cultivated  their  cabbages 
and  potatoes.  The  custom  of  marrying  heiresses  belong- 
ing to  the  bourgeoisie,  or  to  financiers,  had  not  yet  become 
usual,  and  military  service,  not  being  compulsory  as  it  is 
nowadays,  had  not  mixed  together  young  men  belonging  to 

166 


Paris  Society  under  MacMahon 

all  classes,  and  thus  thrown  down  the  barriers  of  social  dis- 
tinction. The  noblesse  had  transformed  itself  into  a  set, 
into  which  no  intruders  were  allowed  to  enter,  and  when 
the  Due  de  Mouchy  married  the  Princess  Anna  Murat,  the 
cousin  of  Napoleon  III.,  he  scandalised  not  only  aristocratic 
circles  in  general  but  his  own  family,  the  de  Noailles,  who 
looked  very  much  askance  at  the  lovely  bride  in  spite  of 
the  large  dowry  she  brought  with  her. 

After  the  fall  of  the  Empire,  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain 
began  to  come  out  from  its  seclusion,  to  live  a  little  more 
in  Paris,  and  a  little  less  in  its  country  castles.  It  participated 
in  the  gaieties,  such  as  they  were,  that  went  on,  and  even 
appeared  at  the  receptions  of  the  Ely  see,  timidly  at  first, 
whilst  M.  and  Mme.  Thiers  presided  over  them,  and  then 
more  boldly  after  they  had  been  replaced  by  Marshal  Mac- 
Mahon and  his  wife.  Then  the  different  members  of  the 
Orleans  family  opened  their  doors  to  a  few  select  guests, 
and  the  salons  of  the  Rothschilds  became  a  neutral  meeting 
ground,  where  in  time  people  belonging  to  different  political 
opinions  saw  each  other  and  commingled,  at  least  as  regards 
social  relations.  Sport,  which  had  hitherto  been  absolutely 
unknown  among  the  better  classes,  became  fashionable, 
and  did  more  than  anything  else  to  break  down  the  barriers 
that  had  divided  the  different  social  sets  and  coteries  that 
had  lived  in  solitary  grandeur  until  then.  The  Embassies, 
too,  contributed  to  bring  together  representatives  of  the 
various  sections  of  fashionable  France,  because  the  supremacy 
of  Paris  somehow  began  to  be  less  absolute  than  it  had  been 
under  Napoleon  III.  The  fact,  also,  that  the  government  of 
the  Republic  had  appealed  to  the  patriotism  of  some  members 
of  the  old  nobility  of  the  country  to  help  it  in  its  task 
of  restoring  the  prestige  of  France  abroad — as,  for  instance, 
in  sending  the  Due  de  Bisaccia  to  London  as  Ambassador, 

167 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut  Biron  to  Berlin  in  the  same 
capacity — had  done  much  to  bring  it  partisans,  and  to  procure 
it  more  sympathy  than  the  Empire  had  won  for  itself  at 
its  start.  People  were  feeling  that  the  present  state  of  things 
was  but  transitory,  and  that  the  existence  of  that  Republic, 
which  no  one  had  expected  or  foreseen  a  few  days,  even,  before 
it  became  an  accomplished  fact,  was  bound  to  come  to  an 
end  very  quickly,  especially  under  the  Marshal,  who,  it  was 
firmly  believed,  would  use  all  his  influence  to  bring  about 
a  return  of  the  Bourbon  dynasty  to  the  throne  of  France. 

The  Legitimists  were  also  in  possession  of  large  financial 
means,  which  they  had  contrived  to  accumulate  during  all 
the  years  of  their  voluntary  seclusion.  This  gave  them  a 
distinct  advantage  over  the  Imperialists,  whose  exchequer, 
which  had  largely  depended  on  the  liberality  of  the  Emperor, 
found  itself  in  a  very  low  state  indeed  after  it  had  lost  that 
resource.  Ladies  who  had  presided  over  salons  that  gave 
the  tone  to  Paris  society,  and  whose  doors  had  been  thrown 
widely  open  to  all  who  had  cared  to  enter — such  social  leaders 
as  the  Countess  Valevoska,  the  Princess  Pauline  Metternich, 
or  the  Marquise  de  Chasseloup  Laubat,  and  the  Countess 
Tascher  de  la  Pagerie — had  either  left  Paris,  or  retired  from 
the  world,  or  lost  the  means  to  entertain  with  their  former 
splendour.  Of  the  hostesses  of  olden  days  there  remained 
but  very  few,  such  as  the  Comtesse  Edmond  de  Pourtales, 
the  Baronesses  Alphonse  and  Gustave  de  Rothschild,  and 
the  Princess  de  Sagan,  and  it  was  at  their  houses  that  the 
first  entertainments  after  the  horrors  of  the  war  and  the 
Commune  took  place.  It  was  under  their  patronage  that 
Paris  found  out  it  still  could  enjoy  itself,  though  the  wild 
chase  after  gaiety,  which  had  preceded  them,  no  longer 
existed.  And  then  a  few  salons,  hermetically  closed  before, 
suddenly  started  a  series  of  entertainments,  at  which  the  Comte 

168 


Paris  Society  under  MacMahon 

and  the  Comtesse  de  Paris  made  frequent  appearances, 
especially  after  their  eldest  daughter,  the  Princesse  Amelie 
d'Orleans,  who  was  later  on  to  become  Queen  of  Portugal, 
had  begun  to  go  out  into  the  world.  Among  them  may 
be  mentioned  those  of  the  Duchesse  de  Galliera  and  of  the 
Duchesse  de  la  Rochefoucauld  Bisaccia,  after  the  latter's 
return  from  London,  and  the  retirement  of  the  Due  from 
public  life. 

The  Duchesse  de  Bisaccia,  born  Princesse  Marie  de  Ligne, 
was  a  most  important  person  in  Paris  society,  over  which  she 
exercised  a  real  influence  owing  to  her  husband's  enormous 
fortune,  her  beautiful  house  in  the  Rue  de  Varennes,  and 
the  luxury,  the  pomp  and  the  grandeur  that  were  displayed 
at  her  numerous  receptions.  A  factor  which  also  contri- 
buted to  her  popularity  was  the  fact  of  the  alliances  that 
united  the  La  Rochefoucaulds  to  all  the  oldest  nobility  of 
France,  and  the  most  powerful  members  of  the  coterie  "  du 
Faubourg  St.  Germain."  The  eldest  daughter  of  the  Due 
by  his  first  wife,  Mademoiselle  de  Polignac,  was  the  Duchesse 
de  Luynes,  the  widow  of  the  Due  de  Luynes,  who  had  fallen 
bravely  during  the  battle  of  Patay  in  1870,  whilst  his  second 
and  third  daughters  were  in  time  to  become  the  Princesse 
de  Ligne  and  the  Duchesse  d'Harcourt ;  his  eldest  son  was 
to  marry  the  only  daughter  of  the  Due  de  la  Tremouille,  one 
of  the  richest  heiresses  in  France. 

Personally,  the  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld  Bisaccia  was  a 
pompous  individual,  with  the  manners  of  a  courtly  gentle- 
man, as,  indeed,  he  was,  and  with  just  enough  wit  about 
him  to  allow  him  to  hold  his  own  among  the  people  with 
whom  he  lived.  He  had  an  excellent  opinion  of  his  personal 
capacities,  felt  himself  born  to  great  things,  and  destined 
to  greater  still.  He  had  a  despotic  temperament,  and 
his  way  of  greeting  those  who  called  upon  him,  or  whom  he 

169 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

met  at  other  people's  houses,  was  decidedly  haughty.  He 
believed  himself  to  be  as  much  above  humanity  as  his  worldly 
position  and  his  fortune  were  above  those  of  the  generality 
of  mankind.  In  a  word,  he  carried  his  ducal  coronet  every- 
where, and  even  when  sleeping  remembered  that  he  had  to 
take  care  of  it,  or  rather  that  it  had  to  take  care  of  him.  He 
did  not  admit  that  anybody  could  forget  what  was  due  to 
him,  and  when,  long  past  middle  age,  he  took  for  his  second 
wife  the  pretty  and  lively  Marie  de  Ligne,  he  could  not  for 
one  single  instant  think  that  he  failed  to  represent  for  her 
an  ideal  husband  in  every  way,  or  that  her  fancy  might  have 
led  her  to  choose  a  younger  and  handsomer  and  merrier 
companion  of  her  life. 

The  Duchesse,  however,  succeeded  very  soon  in  finding 
diversion  in  other  directions  than  in  the  constant  companion- 
ship of  her  pompous  and  solemn  husband.  She  was  one  of 
those  beings  who  always  succeed  in  taking  for  themselves 
the  good  things  of  life.  Secure  in  her  position,  and  having 
very  soon  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Due's  vanity 
would  never  allow  him  to  think  that  his  wife  might  look 
beyond  him  for  the  happiness  to  which  every  woman  is  en- 
titled, she  managed  to  arrange  her  existence  in  such  a  way 
that  many  roses  helped  her  to  bear  its  thorns.  There  was 
a  time  when  almost  every  man  of  note  in  Paris  society  found 
himself  one  of  the  admirers  of  the  Duchesse  de  Bisaccia, 
and  also  one  of  her  friends.  She  was  always  pleasant,  always 
kind,  always  good-tempered,  always  ready  to  make  others 
happy.  Pretty  in  her  youth,  she  very  quickly  became  stout, 
but  this  did  not  prevent  her  from  going  about  or  attending 
any  of  the  entertainments  at  which  it  was  deemed  fashionable 
to  be  seen.  She  was  fond  of  dress,  but  yet  always  appeared 
untidy,  perhaps  on  account  of  her  corpulence.  She  generally 
put  on  her  tiara  in  such  a  way  that  five  minutes  after  it  had 

170 


Paris  Society  under  MacMahon 

been  fastened  on  to  her  head  it  got  crooked  and  hung  on  one 
side,  but  though  this  gave  her  whole  person  an  original  appear- 
ance it  did  not  make  her  ridiculous,  as  it  would  have  made 
another  woman.  The  Duchesse  could  not  be  ridiculous,  no 
matter  what  she  wore,  nor  what  she  did.  She  was  essentially 
a  great  lady,  even  when  not  ladylike,  which  often  occurred, 
because  her  manners  were  distinctly  unceremonious,  and  had 
a  dash  of  Bohemianism  about  them  such  as  is  not  often  met 
with  in  the  circles  in  which  she  generally  moved.  I  use  the 
word  "  generally  "  on  purpose,  as  there  were  times  when  the 
Duchesse  did  not  object  to  visiting,  with  one  or  other  of  her 
numerous  friends,  places  and  people  more  or  less  uncon- 
ventional. But,  somehow,  whatever  she  did  or  said,  no  one 
seemed  to  mind,  and  she  remained  until  the  last  the  favourite 
of  a  society  over  which  she  reigned  for  nearly  forty  years, 
and  by  which  she  is  missed  to  this  very  day. 

Madame  de  Bisaccia  was  exceedingly  fond  of  entertaining, 
and  gave  sumptuous  receptions  in  her  Hotel  de  la  Rue  de 
Varennes,  which  were  considered  landmarks  in  the  horizon 
of  fashionable  Paris.  These  receptions  were  very  stately ; 
it  would  have  been  impossible  for  them  to  be  otherwise  in 
the  presence  of  the  Due.  During  the  septenary  of  Marshal 
MacMahon  they  were  frequent,  especially  and  always  honoured 
by  the  presence  of  a  royalty  or  two.  The  Duchesse  had  a 
grand  way  of  receiving  her  guests,  and  when  she  stood  on  the 
top  of  her  beautiful  old  staircase  she  appeared  every  inch 
of  her  to  be  one  of  those  great  ladies  of  the  eighteenth  century 
such  as  we  see  in  the  pictures  of  Latour  or  Largilliere — a 
queen  without  a  crown,  but  with  courtiers,  and  surrounded 
by  regal  state. 

It  was  rumoured  that  at  these  feasts,  which  took  place 
in  the  Hotel  de  Bisaccia,  many  dark  plots  against  the  Republic 
were  hatched.  The  Comte  de  Paris  used  to  receive  some 

171 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

of  his  adherents  in  a  remote  room  there  whilst  his  daughter 
was  dancing  in  the  ball-room,  and  the  Comtesse  gave  audiences 
to  ladies  who  craved  to  be  presented  to  her,  with  the  dignity 
she  had  learnt  in  the  royal  palace  of  Madrid,  where  she  had 
been  born.  It  was  under  the  auspices  of  the  Due  that  the 
leaders  of  the  Legitimist  party  persuaded  the  head  of  the 
House  of  Orleans  that,  in  order  to  recover  the  throne  which 
his  grandfather  had  lost,  a  reconciliation  had  to  be  effected 
between  him  and  the  Comte  de  Chambord  ;  it  was  also  there 
that  a  plot  was  conceived  to  persuade  Marshal  MacMahon 
to  lend  himself  to  a  restoration,  which  was  not  only  desired 
but  which  had  been  in  a  certain  sense  already  discounted 
among  the  majority  of  the  people  who  were  guests  at  the  recep- 
tions of  the  Hotel  de  Bisaccia. 

All  this  is  now  a  thing  of  the  past.  Good-natured  Duchesse 
Marie  died  a  good  many  years  since,  and  the  pompous  little 
Due  has  followed  her  to  the  grave ;  their  eldest  son  has 
also  disappeared  from  this  worldly  scene,  whilst  his  widow, 
Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille,  lives  in  retirement,  and  moves 
in  quite  a  different  set  from  the  one  which  had  frequented 
the  salons  of  Madame  de  Bisaccia.  The  Hotel  de  la  Rue  de 
Varennes  belongs  to  the  second  son  of  the  Duchesse,  who 
has  inherited  from  an  uncle  the  title  of  Due  de  Doudeauville, 
and  who  has  married  the  granddaughter  of  M.  Blanc,  of 
Monaco  fame — a  woman  with  more  pride  than  charm,  who 
knows  the  value  of  the  millions  which  she  brought  as  her  dowry 
to  her  husband,  and  who  will  never  play  in  Parisian  society 
the  part  which  her  mother-in-law  filled  so  well. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Due 
de  Bisaccia  had  been  married  to  the  Due  de  Luynes.  She 
became  a  widow  at  the  age  of  twenty,  and  never  married 
again,  preferring  to  keep  her  great  name  and  title,  and  under- 
standing that  this  would  not  prevent  her  from  living  her  own 

172 


Paris  Society  under  MacMahon 

life  in  the  way  she  liked  best.  She  was  a  charming  creature, 
this  Duchesse  de  Luynes,  gifted  with  great  talents,  and  possessed 
of  an  engaging  manner  that  was  quite  peculiar  to  her.  People 
who  knew  her  well  used  to  say  that  she  had  an  abominable 
temper,  but  of  this  last  fact  the  general  public  was  not  made 
aware,  and  it  is  quite  certain  that  she  was  greatly  liked  by 
nearly  all  those  who  knew  her.  She  lived  most  of  the  year 
at  her  castle  of  Dampierre,  which  had  been  left  to  her  for 
life  by  the  Due,  and  received  in  great  state  in  that  historical 
domain,  made  illustrious  by  the  remembrance  of  all  the  famous 
people  to  whom  it  had  previously  belonged,  or  who  had  been 
visitors  under  its  hospitable  roof.  Ill-natured  gossips  pretended 
that  during  her  children's  minority  she  had  managed  to  squander 
a  good  part  of  the  fortune  which  they  had  inherited  from 
their  father,  and  which  had  been  left  under  her  personal 
control,  and  it  is  certain  that  her  son,  the  present  Due,  in 
spite  of  the  large  dowry  which  his  wife,  the  daughter  of  the 
Duchesse  d'Uzes,  of  Boulanger  fame,  had  brought  to  him, 
had  to  exercise  a  rigorous  economy  in  order  to  restore  some- 
thing of  its  past  glories  to  the  house  of  Luynes.  But  during 
the  lifetime  of  the  Duchesse  Yolande  no  one  dared  to  make 
any  allusion  to  the  carelessness  with  which  she  had  attended 
to  her  children's  interests,  and  she  exercised  a  despotic  sway 
over  them,  and  never  allowed  them  to  question  anything 
she  decided  to  do.  Dark  things  were  hinted  about  her, 
but  we  may  be  allowed  to  consider  them  as  calumnies,  and 
to  remember  her  as  one  of  the  pleasantest  women  among  the 
many  who  reigned  over  Paris  society  at  the  period  of  which 
I  am  writing. 

The  La  Rochefoucauld  was  a  very  numerous  family, 
divided  into  ever  so  many  branches,  and  owing  to  the 
similarity  of  names  a  good  deal  of  trouble  ensued, 
until  the  identity  of  all  of  them  was  discovered,  especially 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

to  persons  not  very  well  up  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Almanach 
de  Gotha. 

The  Comte  de  la  Rochefoucauld  was  an  amusing  person- 
age, and  anything  more  funny  than  his  admiration  of 
the  family  to  which  he  belonged  could  scarcely  be  met. 
His  whole  universe  consisted  in  the  grandeur  of  the 
origin  of  the  La  Rochefoucaulds,  and  the  sole  reason  of  his 
existence,  as  well  as  the  only  object  of  his  thoughts,  was  how 
to  persuade  others  to  view  it  in  the  same  light  that  he  did. 
According  to  him,  God  came  first  and  the  La  Rochefoucaulds 
next,  and  I  am  not  quite  sure  whether  he  did  not  consider 
in  his  inmost  thoughts  that  even  in  heaven  they  ought  to 
be  awarded  precedence  at  the  banquet  of  Eternity  over  the 
saints  of  humble  origin. 

It  is  related  that  one  day  when  he  was  in  England  someone 
mentioned  the  old  saying,  in  relation  to  one  of  the  most 
noble  of  the  many  noble  houses  Great  Britain  can  boast,  which 
speaks  of  "all  the  blood  of  all  the  Howards,"  Count  Aimery 
smiled  modestly.  "  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  the  Howards  are 
great  people,  but  I  have  known  greater  ones  "  ("  Je  connais 
mieux  qu'eux  "). 

One  can  imagine  how  this  weakness  of  that  amiable  man, 
for  he  was  amiable  indeed,  was  laughed  at,  but  nevertheless 
he  contrived  to  create  for  himself  a  unique  position  in  Paris 
society,  and  talked  so  much  and  so  constantly  over  his  right 
to  occupy  the  seat  of  honour  at  every  dining-table  he  was  asked 
to  honour  with  his  presence,  that  he  succeeded  in  getting  it 
— and  no  one  would  have  dreamed  of  denying  it  to  him. 
Even  when  he  happened  to  be  in  the  same  room  as  a 
Duke  whose  supremacy  he  deigned  to  recognise  and  to  admit, 
one  was  very  careful  to  award  him  the  next  best  seat. 

Comte  Aimery  was  married  to  a  charming  woman,  Made- 
moiselle de  Mailly  Nesle,  whose  house  in  the  Rue  de  1'Univer- 


Paris  Society  under  MacMahon 

site  was  for  many  years  considered  one  of  the  most  hospitable 
among  the  many  hospitable  ones  in  Paris.  She  was  most 
exclusive  as  to  the  people  whom  she  invited  to  it,  but  when 
once  she  had  allowed  them  to  cross  her  threshold,  she  never 
dropped  them  later  on,  or  showed  any  difference  in  the  way 
in  which  she  welcomed  them,  even  when  she  did  not  find 
them  quite  congenial  or  entirely  sympathetic.  She  was 
rather  stiff  and  certainly  dull,  and  the  parties  which  she  used 
to  give  regularly  during  the  spring  season  were  anything 
but  lively,  partly  because  the  guests  felt  that  they  ought 
not  to  think  about  anything  else  but  the  greatness  of  the 
La  Rochefoucaulds,  and  the  honour  which  was  conferred  upon 
them  by  their  admittance  under  the  roof  of  a  member  of 
that  illustrious  family ;  partly  because  anything  that  would 
have  borne  even  the  most  remote  likeness  to  amusement 
or  mirth  would  have  seemed  out  of  place  in  those  large  rooms 
furnished  in  the  seventeenth  century  style,  where  on  all  the 
walls  hung  solemn  pictures  of  dead  and  gone  ancestors  of 
the  hosts.  But  to  be  invited  to  attend  a  social  function,  no 
matter  of  what  kind,  by  Madame  Aimery  gave  one  at  once 
a  position  in  Paris  society,  putting  one  immediately  on  the 
level  of  the  upper  ten  thousand  who  constituted  its  most 
exclusive  set,  and  by  reason  of  that  circumstance  any  new 
arrival  or  foreigner  aspiring  to  make  a  position  for  himself 
thought  it  his  or  her  duty  never  to  miss  any  of  the  recep- 
tions given  at  the  hotel  in  the  Rue  de  PUniversite. 

Madame  Aimery  de  la  Rochefoucauld  died  a  year  or  two 
ago,  and  the  hospitable  gates  of  her  house  have  remained 
closed  ever  since.  Her  only  son,  Comte  Gabriel,  is  married 
to  Mademoiselle  de  Richelieu,  the  sister  of  the  present  Duke 
of  that  name  and  the  daughter  of  the  widowed  Duchess, 
who  later  married  the  Prince  of  Monaco.  The  Princesse 
de  Monaco  is  a  Jewess  by  origin,  the  daughter  of  the  banker 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Heine,  and  it  was  a  hard  pill  to  swallow  for  Count  Aimery 
when  he  had  to  consent  to  this  union  of  his  only  son  with 
a  girl  who,  though  charming  in  herself,  still  could  not  boast 
of  the  thirty-two  quarterings  which  he  considered  as  indis- 
pensable in  such  cases.  He  submitted,  however,  with  better 
grace  than  he  would  have  done  had  a  few  millions  not  helped 
him  to  do  so,  together  with  the  consciousness  that  these 
millions  would  allow  his  heir  to  keep  up  the  state  which 
befitted  his  station  in  life.  Now  Count  Aimery  is  an  old  man, 
far  advanced  in  the  sixties,  if  not  in  the  seventies,  and  is  but 
little  seen  in  society,  especially  since  the  death  of  his  wife. 
His  greatest  delight  consists  in  being  consulted  in  matters  of 
etiquette,  or  being  asked  to  arrange  seats  at  a  dinner-table. 
His  constant  occupation  is  the  study  of  the  Almanach  de 
Gotha  and  books  of  that  kind.  He  is  as  happy  as  a  man 
devoid  of  cares  can  be,  and  probably  will  live  a  good  many 
years  yet,  being  so  forgetful  of  anything  that  does  not  con- 
cern the  glories  of  the  La  Rochefoucauld  family  that  he  will 
surely  even  forget  to  die.  Should  he  ever  remember  to  do 
so,  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  will  lose  its  greatest  authority 
in  matters  of  social  etiquette  and  social  precedence. 


176 


CHAPTER   XVI 


AMONG  the  great  ladies  who  began  to  receive  society  in  their 
ancestral  houses  during  the  presidency  of  Marshal  MacMahon 
can  be  mentioned  the  Duchesse  de  Rohan,  at  that  time  still 
Princesse  de  Leon ;  the  Duchesse  de  Galliera,  of  whom  I 
have  already  spoken;  and  a  crowd  of  hostesses  of  minor 
standing  within  the  social  horizon,  who  hastened  with  more 
or  less  alacrity  to  follow  their  example.  The  Comtesse  Melanie 
de  Pourtales  opened  once  more  the  doors  of  her  hotel  in  the 
Rue  Tronchet,  as  did  the  Baroness  Alphonse  de  Rothschild 
her  magnificent  palace  in  the  Rue  St.  Florentin,  whilst  Madame 
Edouard  Andre  very  soon  contrived,  thanks  to  her  husband's 
enormous  fortune  and  her  own  great  talent  as  a  painter, 
to  introduce  herself  into  the  most  select  circles  of  Paris  society, 
and  to  have  all  its  celebrities  at  her  receptions  given  in  her 
splendid  dwelling  on  the  Boulevard  Haussmann. 

Little  by  little  social  life  began  to  re-establish  itself,  though 
on  an  entirely  different  scale  than  formerly,  and,  strange 
to  say,  society  became  ever  so  much  less  exclusive  than  when 
a  distinct  line  of  separation  existed  between  the  Monde  des 
Tuileries,  as  it  was  called,  and  the  other  coteries  which  abounded 
in  the  capital. 

Madame  de  Galliera  was  one  of  the  last  representatives 
of  the  grandes  dames  of  the  time  of  Louis  Philippe,  when 
even  great  ladies  got  imbued  with  a  certain  tinge  of  middle- 
class  leanings,  which  were  the  distinctive  feature  of  that 

M  177 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

middle-class  Court  over  which  Queen  Marie  Amelie  presided, 
where  it  was  not  considered  as  against  etiquette  to  appear 
before  the  Sovereigns  with  an  umbrella,  and  where  the  King 
did  not  hesitate  to  peel  a  fruit  with  a  penknife.  Madame 
de  Galliera  was  polite  and  amiable,  very  correct  in  every- 
thing she  did,  and  very  much  convinced  of  the  exceptional 
importance  which  her  numerous  millions  gave  her  in  the 
world  where  she  moved  with  more  ease  than  pleasure.  She 
belonged  to  a  coterie  composed  of  widely  differing  elements, 
and  where  rigid  dames  could  be  found  together  with  some 
who  posed  as  such,  though  with  the  heavy  burden  of  a  well- 
filled  past  upon  their  shoulders.  Such,  for  instance,  as  the 
Duchesse  de  Dino,  who  in  her  young  days  had  been  a  friend 
of  Madame  de  Galliera,  though  considerably  older  than  the 
latter. 

At  the  time  I  am  talking  about,  that  descendant  of  the 
Genoese  Doges  and  daughter  of  the  ancient  house  of  Brignole- 
Sale  was  affecting  the  most  considerable  devotion  to  the 
'Orleans  family,  and  had  put  her  sumptuous  house  at  the 
disposal  of  the  Comte  de  Paris,  who  inhabited  it  until  the 
decree  of  expulsion  was  enforced  against  him.  He  held  there 
the  reception  on  the  occasion  of  the  wedding  of  his  daughter, 
the  Princess  Amelie,  with  the  heir  to  the  throne  of  Portugal. 
This  reception  brought  him  bad  luck  in  general,  because  it 
was  the  cause  of  a  quarrel  between  him  and  his  capricious 
hostess,  who,  instead  of  leaving  him  her  vast  fortune  as  she 
had  intended,  willed  a  considerable  portion  of  it  to  the  Empress 
Frederick  of  Germany,  with  whom  she  had  struck  up  a  violent 
friendship  at  the  time  the  Emperor  was  struggling  with 
the  horrors  of  his  last  illness  at  San  Remo.  She  left  her  house 
in  Paris  to  the  Austrian  Emperor,  whose  Embassy  has  been 
located  in  it  ever  since. 

Madame  de  Galliera  was  a  very  considerable  personality 

178 


Prominent  Parisian  Hostesses 

in  Paris  society,  but  no  one  liked  her,  and  not  a  few  stood 
in  fear  of  her  because  she  could  be  terribly  rude  when  she 
liked,  and  had  a  peculiar  way  of  entirely  crushing  those  she 
did  not  care  for,  or  against  whom  she  thought  she  had  a 
grudge.  Her  relations  with  her  only  son  were  peculiar,  and 
for  reasons  it  is  not  for  me  to  discuss  he  refused  to  accept 
the  slightest  portion  of  her  enormous  wealth,  or  to  be  known 
by  any  of  the  numerous  titles  that  belonged  to  her,  calling 
himself  plain  M.  Ferrari,  and  preferring  to  earn  his  own 
living  rather  than  enjoy  millions  to  which  he  felt  he  had 
no  moral  right.  His  strong  principles  rebelled  against 
compromises,  about  which  no  one  else  would  have  been 
troubled. 

The  present  Duchesse  de  Rohan,  at  that  time  still  Princesse 
de  Le*on,  was  a  very  different  person  from  Madame  de  Galliera. 
Mademoiselle  de  Verteillac  by  birth,  she  brought  an  immense 
dowry  to  the  Prince  de  Leon  when  she  married  him  ;  it  restored 
to  the  house  of  Rohan  some  of  its  past  splendours.  With  her 
money  she  rebuilt  the  old  castle  of  Josselin,  and  made  it  one 
of  the  landmarks  of  Brittany.  The  receptions  she  held  in 
her  house  on  the  Boulevard  des  Invalides  were  exceedingly 
sumptuous  and  numerous ;  some  of  the  fancy  balls  that  took 
place  there,  indeed,  are  still  talked  of.  She  was  hospitable, 
kind,  clever  in  her  way,  but  rather  inclined  to  vulgarity, 
perhaps  on  account  of  her  stoutness,  and  partly  because  her 
whole  manner  was  too  good-natured  to  be  distinguished. 
Looking  at  her,  one  might  have  thought  her  to  be  anything 
but  a  Duchesse  de  Rohan,  but  she  was  and  is  still  very  much 
liked,  because  she  has  always  shown  herself  generous,  indulgent 
for  others,  and  absolutely  devoid  of  snobbishness.  Madame 
de  Rohan  has  pretensions  to  be  considered  a  literary 
person,  and  has  written  a  few  books,  which  her  title  and 
position  in  society  have  helped  to  make  popular.  She  is 

179 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

now  an  old  woman,  who  has  known  the  sorrows  of  life,  having 
lost  a  charming  daughter,  the  Comtesse  de  Perigord,  who 
was  snatched  away  from  her  in  the  flower  of  her  youth  and 
beauty ;  but  the  Duchesse  has  kept  her  pleasant  smile  and 
kind  welcome,  and  is  decidedly  a  popular  personage  in  Parisian 
society. 

The  years  that  have  sat  rather  heavily  on  the  Duchesse 
de  Leon  have  spared  the  lovely  Countess  Melanie  de  Pourtales, 
who,  although  a  great-grandmother  at  present,  is  just  as 
lovely  an  old  woman  as  she  was  a  splendid  young  one.  The 
smile,  the  eyes,  the  expression,  have  retained  their  former 
charm  and  the  soft  melodious  voice  its  youthful  ring.  One 
cannot  call  Madame  de  Pourtales  a  great  lady,  in  the  sense 
which  the  French  attach  to  this  expression  of  grande  dame, 
which  has  no  equal  in  any  other  language  ;  but  she  was 
essentially  the  femme  charmante  of  the  time  in  which  she  was 
born,  pleasant,  simple,  with  no  shred  of  affectation  about  her, 
a  thoughtful  hostess,  and  a  faithful  friend  to  those  to  whom 
she  had  attached  herself  ;  moreover,  of  no  mean  intelligence, 
of  perfect  tact,  and  with  a  wonderful  knowledge  of  the  world. 
She  saw  at  her  feet  all  the  men  of  her  own  generation,  and 
went  on  gathering  the  admiration  of  those  who  belonged  to 
a  later  one.  Her  receptions  were  select,  in  the  sense  that  at 
them  one  only  met  social  stars ;  they  were  not  exclusive — 
bankers  and  financial  magnates  elbowred  young  beauties  in 
their  prime,  or  authors,  whether  of  repute  or  simply  fashion- 
able for  the  moment.  When  she  passes  away  she  will 
not  be  forgotten,  and  her  name  will  always  remain  asso- 
ciated with  the  fate  of  the  Second  Empire  and  with  the  Third 
Republic. 

I  have  spoken  of  Madame  Edouard  Andre  ;  before  her 
marriage  she  had  been  known  as  Mademoiselle  Nelly  Jacque- 
mard,  a  painter  of  wonderful  talent,  whose  portraits  of  M. 

180 


Prominent  Parisian  Hostesses 

Thiers  and  M.  Dufaure  will  rank  among  the  most  remarkable 
works  of  art  of  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century  in  France. 
She  had  fascinated  M.  Andre",  the  son  of  a  banker,  blessed 
with  a  considerable  number  of  millions,  who  had  been  one 
of  the  most  fashionable  men  of  the  Societe"  des  Tuileries 
towards  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Napoleon  III.  M.  Andre", 
already  old  and  nearly  paralysed,  had  fallen  in  love  with 
the  artist  at  the  time  she  was  painting  his  picture,  and  finding 
that  their  tastes  in  many  things  harmonised  he  had  married 
her.  Mile.  Jacquemard  proved  herself  grateful,  and  made 
an  excellent  wife  to  the  tired,  weary  man,  who  found  in  her 
what  he  had  wished — a  companion  and  a  nurse.  When  he  died 
he  left  her  all  his  riches,  together  with  his  wonderful  house 
and  the  numerous  works  of  art  that  it  contained,  and  to 
which  she  considerably  added. 

Madame  Andre  was  an  amusing  little  woman,  absolutely 
vulgar  in  appearance  and  manners,  but  who  moved  in  the 
best  society,  and  whose  entertainments,  absolutely  devoid 
of  stiffness,  were  as  amusing  as  large  receptions  can  be.  She 
was  made  very  much  of  by  the  Orleans  family,  who  flattered 
her  in  the  secret  hope  that  she  would  be  induced  to  make 
a  will  in  their  favour,  but  that  hope  was  to  prove  a  barren 
one,  because  Madame  Andre  left  all  that  she  possessed  to  the 
Institut  de  France,  with  injunctions  to  transform  her  palace 
into  a  museum.  She  is  supposed  to  have  said,  not  without 
a  certain  malice,  that  in  doing  so  she  was  following  the  example 
given  to  her  by  the  Due  d'Aumale,  and  that  consequently 
she  believed  the  way  she  had  disposed  of  her  property  would 
meet  the  approval  of  the  latter's  numerous  nephews  and 
nieces. 

By  an  extraordinary  freak  of  her  rather  peculiar  character 
Madame  Andre,  after  her  marriage,  entirely  neglected  the 
art  to  which  she  had  owed  her  former  celebrity.  She  abso- 

181 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

lutely  refused  to  take  again  a  brush  or  a  pencil  in  her  hand, 
and  was  even  angry  when  anyone  made  an  allusion  to  her 
wonderful  talent  in  that  line.  It  seemed  as  if  she  was  ashamed 
of  Nelly  Jacquemard,  and  yet  it  was  to  Nelly  Jacquemard 
she  had  owed  the  conquest  that  she  had  made  of  M. 
Edouard  Andre  and  his  many  millions. 

The  Rothschild  family,  who  perhaps  had  been  more 
powerful  during  the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe  than  later  on,  at 
least  as  regards  the  political  influence  and  power  which  they 
wielded,  had  acquired  a  far  greater  social  position  during  the 
Second  Empire,  and  one  which  became  even  stronger  after  its 
fall,  when  for  one  brief  moment  they  transferred  their  allegiance 
to  the  Comte  de  Paris  and  to  the  whole  Orleans  family.  The 
Baron  Alphonse  was  a  very  great  personage  indeed,  and 
one  of  whom  even  kings  and  countries  stood  in  awe.  He 
had  married  one  of  his  cousins,  the  daughter  of  the  London 
Rothschild,  and  the  grace,  beauty,  and  intelligence  of  his 
wife  won  them  many  friends  among  Parisian  society.  The 
couple  entertained  on  a  large  scale,  and  their  balls,  dinners, 
and  shooting  parties  at  their  lovely  castle  of  Ferrieres  were 
celebrated  for  the  luxury  displayed  at  them  and  for  the 
discriminating  choice  of  the  guests  invited.  It  was  at  Ferrieres 
that  the  Princess  Amelie,  the  daughter  of  the  Comte  de  Paris, 
made  her  debut  in  society,  and  later  on,  especially  during  the 
Exhibition  of  1878,  the  Rothschilds  opened  their  doors  widely 
to  the  best  French  and  foreign  society.  The  death  of  their 
eldest  daughter,  Bettina,  married  to  her  cousin,  Baron  Albert 
Rothschild  of  Vienna,  put  an  end  to  those  brilliant  festivities. 
The  Baroness  Alphonse  hardly  ever  went  out  after  that, 
and  contented  herself  with  seeing  a  few  intimate  friends  at 
her  own  house.  The  only  other  great  function  at  the  hotel 
in  the  Rue  St.  Florentin  was  the  reception  given  in  honour 
of  the  marriage  of  Edouard,  the  only  son  of  Baron  and  Baroness 

182 


Prominent  Parisian  Hostesses 

Alphonse  de  Rothschild,  with  the  lovely  Mademoiselle  Halphen, 
an  event  which  was  very  shortly  followed  by  the  death  of  the 
old  Baron. 

His  widow  only  survived  him  for  a  short  time.  She  had 
grown  very  eccentric  towards  the  last,  and  suffered  from  the 
mania  of  thinking  herself  poor  and  obliged  to  economise. 
Madame  Edmond  de  Pourtales  was  about  the  only  person 
whom  she  cared  to  see,  and  the  latter  remained  with  her 
constantly,  never  leaving  her  bedside  during  her  last  short 
illness.  The  hotel  in  the  Rue  St.  Florentin  still  remains  closed, 
as  its  present  owners  do  not  seem  to  care  much  for  society, 
and  it  is  very  much  to  be  doubted  whether  it  will  ever  witness 
the  sumptuous  entertainments  that  had  won  for  it  such  fame 
in  past  times. 

Another  house  which  has  passed  into  other  hands,  being 
now  occupied  by  M.  Seligmann,  a  merchant  of  curiosities, 
is  the  Hotel  de  Sagan,  Rue  St.  Dominique,  where  the  Princesse 
de  Sagan,  the  daughter  of  the  banker  Seilleres,  used  so  fre- 
quently to  entertain  from  the  days  when  her  marriage  brought 
her  into  the  most  exclusive  set  of  Paris  society.  Madame 
de  Sagan  was  a  tall,  slight,  fair  woman,  with  pleasant  manners, 
who  was  very  much  liked  by  a  good  many  men,  but  had  never 
been  able  to  get  on  with  her  own  husband.  He  was  the 
eldest  son  of  the  Due  de  Valencay  and  the  grandson  of  the 
famous  Duchesse  de  Dino.  He  spent  right  and  left,  and  as 
his  father  either  could  not,  or  would  not,  give  him  more,  he 
had  been  obliged  to  seek  among  the  daughters  of  financial 
houses  a  companion  of  his  life.  He  did  not  care  in  the  least 
for  his  wife,  though  he  tried  to  launch  her  into  society,  and 
to  help  her  in  acquiring  a  great  position.  The  Princess  made 
the  best  of  his  advice,  but  very  soon  discovered  that  if  she 
wanted  to  keep  her  prestige  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  she  had 
better  remove  her  fortune  from  the  control  of  her  husband, 

183 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

The  couple  separated  after  stormy  quarrels,  that  formed 
the  main  topic  of  public  conversation  for  a  long  time,  and 
the  Princess  found  many  people  willing  to  console  her  in 
her  solitude.  From  time  to  time  an  ugly  scandal  arose  in 
connection  with  either  her  doings  or  those  of  the  Prince, 
who  very  often  found  need  to  have  recourse  to  his  wife's 
purse.  He  obliged  her  to  pay  dearly  for  his  silence  con- 
cerning things  that,  if  revealed,  might  have  impaired  that 
worldly  position  for  which  she  cared  above  everything 
else. 

It  is  related  that  once  when  the  heir  to  one  of  the  thrones 
of  Europe  had  signified  his  intention  to  be  present  at  an  enter- 
tainment given  by  Madame  de  Sagan,  some  relatives  had  ex- 
plained to  her  that  it  would  be  more  suitable,  especially  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  the  Prince's  wife  would  also  be  present, 
to  have  a  master  of  the  house  to  play  the  host,  and  to  receive 
them  together  with  her.  She  then  began  negotiations  with 
the  Prince  de  Sagan,  who  first  of  all  stipulated  he  should 
be  given  a  handsome  cheque  of  not  less  than  four  figures, 
to  ensure  his  presence  in  his  wife's  house,  and  who  consented, 
after  having  received  it,  to  make  an  appearance  in  his  former 
home,  to  give  a  look  at  all  the  arrangements  made  in  honour 
of  the  occasion,  and  after  having  received  the  royal  couple 
at  the  bottom  of  the  staircase  of  the  hotel  in  the  Rue  St. 
Dominique,  to  play  the  host  with  the  perfection  that  he 
always  performed  his  social  duties  When  the  last  guest 
had  left,  he  kissed  his  wife's  hand  with  courtly  grace,  and 
took  leave  of  her  in  his  turn  with  a  playful  remark  of  some 
kind  or  other,  and  for  a  long  time  the  couple  did  not  meet 
again. 

The  Prince  de  Sagan  was  considered  the  leader  of  every- 
thing that  was  fashionable  in  Paris.  It  was  he  who  organ- 
ised the  racecourse  of  Auteuil,  and  who  helped  greatly  to 

184 


Prominent  Parisian  Hostesses 

popularise  Americans  among  Parisian  society,  where,  for 
a  handsome  consideration,  so  at  least  it  was  rumoured,  he 
introduced  them  into  his  particular  set,  where  every  word 
he  uttered  was  law,  which,  like  those  of  the  Medes  and  Persians, 
altered  not.  One  used  to  see  him  often  at  the  Opera  in  the 
box  belonging  to  the  Jockey  Club,  with  his  inevitable  eyeglass 
hanging  on  a  broad  black  ribbon,  a  fashion  he  was  the  first 
to  introduce.  He  occupied  two  small  rooms  at  the  club  of 
the  Union,  not  being  possessed  of  enough  means  and  having 
too  many  creditors  to  be  able  to  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  a 
private  apartment,  and  it  was  there  that  he  was  stricken 
with  paralysis,  from  which  he  never  recovered,  and  which 
deprived  him  both  of  his  speech  and  of  his  mental  faculties. 
It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Madame  de  Sagan  behaved  with 
great  generosity  and  a  singular  power  of  forgiveness  for  past 
injuries.  As  soon  as  she  heard  of  the  lamentable  condition 
to  which  her  husband  had  been  reduced,  she  drove  to  the 
club,  and  had  him  removed  to  her  own  house,  where  she 
nursed  him  with  the  utmost  devotion;  thereafter  the  large 
receptions  and  garden  parties  which  she  regularly  gave 
in  spring  and  which  constituted  a  feature  of  the  Paris 
season,  became  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  the  hospitable 
gates  of  the  hotel  in  the  Rue  St.  Dominique  were  closed  for 
ever. 

The  Princesse  de  Sagan,  who  in  the  meanwhile,  through 
the  death  of  her  father-in-law,  had  become  the  Duchesse  de 
Talleyrand,  was  not  rewarded  for  her  self-sacrifice.  She 
died  quite  suddenly,  before  the  Due,  who  was  left  alone  and 
infirm  to  the  mercies  of  his  two  sons  and  of  hired  servants. 
The  old  man  dragged  out  an  existence  for  something  like 
ten  years  or  so,  and  at  last  died  in  poverty  and  solitude, 
expiating  his  formerly  brilliant  life  more  cruelly  and  more 
bitterly  than  he  perhaps  deserved. 

185 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

One  of  his  sons,  the  present  Due  de  Talleyrand,  to  whom 
I  shall  refer  again,  is  married  to  the  American  heiress,  Miss 
Anna  Gould,  whose  divorce  from  the  Comte  de  Castellane 
made  such  a  sensation  a  few  years  ago,  but  the  hotel  in  the 
Rue  St.  Dominique  has  been  sold,  and  already  half  the  mag- 
nificent garden  in  which  it  stood  has  been  built  upon  with 
huge  houses,  whilst  the  inside  of  the  palace  is  turned  into  an 
antiquary's  shop  ;  bric-a-brac  of  all  kinds  encumbers  the  lofty 
rooms  where  kings  and  queens  moved  with  stately  grace ; 
it  dishonours  the  famous  staircase  at  the  top  of  which  the 
Princesse  de  Sagan,  dressed  in  the  costume  of  a  Persian 
Empress  covered  with  priceless  jewels  and  with  a  little 
negro  boy  holding  a  sunshade  over  her  head,  received  her 
guests  at  one  of  the  most  famous  of  her  many  famous 
fancy  balls. 

There  was  one  salon  in  Paris  which  was  not  by  any  means 
so  brilliant  as  that  of  the  Comtesse  de  Pourtales,  the  Princesse 
de  Sagan,  and  the  Duchesse  de  Bisaccia,  but  which  enjoyed 
a  popularity  that  has  never  been  equalled.  I  am  thinking 
of  that  of  the  Duchesse  de  Maille,  that  stately  old  lady  with 
the  many  charming  daughters  who,  without  any  affectation 
of  pomp  and  without  the  least  shade  of  stiffness,  welcomed 
almost  every  evening  her  many  friends  with  her  bright  smile 
and  kind  words.  Madame  de  Maille  was  one  of  those 
women  that  are  but  seldom  met  with,  who  combine  the 
dignity  of  the  grande  dame  with  the  indulgence  and  the  abandon, 
if  one  can  use  such  a  word,  of  the  perfect  woman  of  the  world. 
She  was  clever,  and  she  appreciated  cleverness  in  others  ; 
she  could  talk  well,  and  listen  even  better  still ;  she  knew 
how  to  bring  into  evidence  all  the  perfections  and  qualities  of 
her  friends,  and  she  always  found  reasons  to  excuse  their 
faults  or  their  imperfections.  She  was  discreet,  and  never 
made  use  of  the  many  confidences  that  were  constantly  poured 

1 86 


Prominent  Parisian  Hostesses 

into  her  ear ;  she  had  always  ready  some  good  advice  to  give 
to  those  who  required  it,  and  she  liked  to  see  people  happy 
around  her,  to  watch  young  people  amuse  themselves,  and 
though  excessively  strict  in  everything  that  was  connected 
with  appearances,  so  very  polite  that  somehow  in  her  presence 
no  one  dreamed  of  breaking  the  code  established  by  society 
in  that  respect.  Madame  de  Maille  loved  politics,  and  enjoyed 
exceedingly  the  conversation  of  literary  people.  Almost  all 
the  celebrities  that  Paris  could  boast  of  were  the  habitues 
of  her  salon.  She  used  to  receive  them  seated  by  her  fireside, 
in  her  plain  black  gown,  with  a  lace  cap  over  her  silvery  hair 
and  her  everlasting  knitting  in  her  hands.  She  at  once  put 
them  at  their  ease,  and  found  out  the  most  appropriate  things 
to  tell  them.  Her  house  was  restful  in  our  age  of  restlessness, 
and  though  there  was  not  the  least  shade  of  hauteur 
about  the  old  Duchesse,  the  last  representative  of  the  ancient 
family  of  the  Marquis  d'Osmond,  yet  one  felt  at  once, 
on  seeing  her,  that  one  stood  in  the  presence  of  a  really 
great  lady. 

Now  this  hospitable  salon  is  also  a  thing  of  the  past.  The 
Duchesse  de  Maille  has  been  dead  these  last  ten  years  or  so, 
and  all  her  children  have  settled  in  houses  of  their  own.  Her 
daughters,  Madame  de  Nadaillac,  the  Marquise  de  Ganay, 
and  Madame  de  Fleury,  though  all  distinguished  and  amiable 
women,  perhaps  because  they  are  still  too  young,  have  not 
acquired  that  inimitable  charm,  ease  in  their  manners,  and 
dignity  in  their  bearing  which  belonged  exclusively  to  their 
charming  mother. 

The  Duchesse  de  Maille  was  an  exception  among  the  old 
ladies  of  aristocratic  Paris.  There  was  no  stiffness,  such  as, 
for  instance,  distinguished  the  old  Princesse  de  Ligne  and 
the  Duchesse  de  Mirepoix,  and  some  others  whose  names 
I  have  already  forgotten.  I  do  not  think  that  anything  more 

187 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

solemn  than  the  receptions  of  the  Princess  de  Ligne  have 
ever  been  invented.  She  was  a  Pole  by  birth,  belonging  to 
the  old  family  of  Lubomirski,  a  representative  of  which, 
Prince  Joseph  Lubomirski,  was  at  one  time  a  well-known 
boulevardier.  Anything  more  formidable  in  the  shape  of  a 
dowager  could  hardly  be  found  in  the  whole  world.  One 
could  not  dream  even  of  sitting  in  a  chair  in  her  august  presence, 
and  generally  dropped  down  meekly  on  one  of  the  numerous 
stools  which  adorned  her  drawing-room  and  which  reminded  one 
of  a  church  without  an  altar.  She  was  ill-natured,  too,  cruel 
when  she  liked — and  she  liked  it  often;  severe  in  her  judg- 
ments, and  inexorable  in  her  decisions.  Her  numerous  grand- 
children were  all  afraid  of  her,  and  when  she  decided  that 
the  head  of  the  house  of  Ligne  was  to  marry  her  own  grand- 
daughter, Mile,  de  La  Rochefoucauld  Bisaccia,  neither  one 
nor  the  other,  to  their  own  future  sorrow,  dared  to  say  a  word 
in  opposition,  for  never  was  there  a  union  more  ill-assorted. 
When  it  ended  in  a  divorce  no  one  felt  surprised.  At  the 
time  this  last-mentioned  fact  took  place  the  Princess  Hed- 
wige  de  Ligne  had  long  been  dead. 

There  were  other  houses  in  Paris  which,  perhaps,  were 
less  select,  but  certainly  more  amusing  and  agreeable  than 
those  in  the  high  circles  I  have  just  mentioned.  There  existed 
salons  which  were  truly  Bohemian,  but  which  also  exercised 
a  considerable  influence  on  the  sayings  and  doings  of  society. 
I  have  mentioned  already  old  Madame  Lacroix,  whose  house 
saw  purely  literary  receptions,  and  at  whose  hospitable  hearth 
all  the  distinguished  foreigners  who  arrived  in  Paris  used  to 
meet.  Then  there  was  the  salon  of  Madame  Aubernon  de 
Nerville,  where  Academicians  were  usually  to  be  met,  that 
of  Madame  de  Luynes,  and  last,  but  not  least,  the  salon  of 
Madame  Juliette  Adam,  who  wielded  a  really  regal  power 
among  a  certain  set,  and  who  certainly  succeeded  in  being 

1 88 


Prominent  Parisian  Hostesses 

considered  as  a  political  power,  especially  after  Gambetta 
began  to  seek  her  advice  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  affairs 
of  the  government.  But  this  last  house,  as  well  as  its 
amiable  and  clever  mistress,  deserve  more  than  a  passing 
mention  ;  they  require  a  chapter  to  themselves  in  order  to 
be  duly  appreciated. 


189 


CHAPTER    XVII 

MADAME  JULIETTE  ADAM 

IT  will  be  hardly  possible  ever  to  write  a  history  of  the  Third 
Republic  without  mentioning  Madame  Juliette  Adam,  the 
beautiful,  clever  and  attractive  woman  whose  influence  at 
the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century,  not  only  on  some  of  the 
most  important  personalities  in  France  but  also  on  many 
foreign  notabilities,  was  so  considerable.  Her  efforts  and 
influence  had  much  to  do  with  the  development  of  the  events 
which  ultimately  led  to  the  consolidation  of  the  French 
Republic,  and  which,  after  having  been  the  object  of  her  most 
ardent  worship,  ended  by  finding  her  one  of  its  enemies. 
Some  people  are  born  under  a  lucky  star ;  upon  them  every- 
thing smiles,  and  they  can  do  nothing  that  fails  to  turn 
out  well.  Such  a  being  was  the  lovely  Juliette  la  Messine, 
who,  timid  and  still  unaware  of  her  own  personal  attractions, 
appeared  on  the  horizon  of  Paris  society  at  one  of  the  parties 
given  by  the  Comtesse  d'Agoult.  The  Countess  was  "  Daniel 
Stern  "  in  the  world  of  letters,  the  mother  of  Cosima  Wagner 
and  Madame  Emile  Ollivier,  and  the  heroine  of  the  most 
lasting  romance  in  the  life  of  the  composer  Liszt.  Madame 
d'Agoult,  about  whom  I  cannot  say  much  because  I  have  never 
met  her,  was  in  the  late  'fifties  a  very  important  personage 
in  Parisian  society,  though  her  own  circle  had  repudiated 
her  since  the  scandal  of  her  adventure  with  Liszt.  But  though 
very  few  women  cared  to  be  seen  at  her  house,  most  men  of 
note,  whether  in  politics  or  in  the  world  of  letters,  considered 

190 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

it  an  honour  to  be  asked  to  her  house.  She  presided  over 
a  salon  that  dictated  the  tone  in  many  things,  and  where  she 
succeeded  in  grouping  together  many  celebrities  who,  perhaps, 
but  for  her  would  never  have  had  an  opportunity  of  becoming 
acquainted  with  each  other. 

Juliette  la  Messine,  then  in  the  full  bloom  of  her  fair 
beauty,  had  just  written  a  book  of  philosophy  and  criticism 
called  "  Les  Idees  anti-Proudhoniennes,"  which  was  a  reply 
to  an  attack  made  by  Proudhon  on  Georges  Sand  and  on 
Madame  d'Agoult  herself.  She  sent  a  copy  of  her  book  to 
Daniel  Stern,  who  was  very  much  struck  by  its  virile,  lucid 
composition,  and  thinking  it  was  the  work  of  a  man  who, 
in  order  to  disguise  his  identity,  had  assumed  a  woman's 
name,  wrote  in  reply  to  the  author,  that  she  felt  surprised 
at  his  having  taken  a  feminine  pseudonym,  while  women 
generally  tried  to  pass  off  as  men  in  their  writings.  When 
she  saw  Mile,  la  Messine  she  was  at  once  attracted  by  her 
peculiar  and  wonderful  charm ;  a  friendship  that  was  only  to 
come  to  an  end  with  the  life  of  the  Comtesse  d'Agoult  was 
at  once  formed  between  the  two  women,  who  had  a  great  deal 
in  common,  and  who  were  both  enthusiastic,  eager  to  perform 
noble  deeds  and  to  work  for  the  welfare  of  humanity.  It 
was  also  at  one  of  the  receptions  of  Daniel  Stern  that  Juliette 
la  Messine  met  for  the  first  time  Edmond  Adam,  whom  she 
was  to  marry  later  on  and  under  whose  name  she  was  to  reach 
celebrity. 

One  of  the  results  of  their  marriage  was  the  creation  of 
a  new  salon  in  Paris,  which  very  soon  became  a  centre  of 
political  activity.  It  was  at  the  time  when  the  Republican 
party,  vanquished  by  the  coup  tfetat  of  Napoleon  III.,  by 
which  he  had  definitely  imposed  himself  and  his  dynasty 
upon  a  more  surprised  than  terrified  France,  was  beginning 
to  raise  its  head  again.  Thiers,  who  at  that  particular  moment 

191 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

thought  fit  to  join  the  ranks  of  the  enemies  of  the  Empire, 
was  continually  reproaching  Edmond  Adam  for  his  hesitation 
to  throw  himself  into  the  battle,  and  was  inviting  him  to 
work  with  all  his  strength  for  the  overthrow  of  the  Bonapartes, 
adding,  what  in  fact  he  did  not  believe  but  he  thought  it  to 
his  advantage  to  seem  to  profess,  that  no  government  was 
possible  in  France  except  a  Republic.  Adam  then  said  to  his 
wife  the  following  memorable  words  which  she  repeats  in  her 
memoirs  :  "  I  am  quite  ready  to  work  for  the  Republic,  more 
and  better  than  I  have  done  hitherto,  but  what  can  absten- 
tionists  like  ourselves  do  for  her  ?  "  Husband  and  wife 
organised  their  salon  as  a  meeting  place  where  adherents  of 
Republican  ideas  could  gather  together  and  exchange  their 
ideas  and  opinions.  The  parties  given  by  Thiers  in  his  hotel 
in  the  Rue  St.  Georges  were  generally  frequented  by  the  older 
members  of  the  party,  whilst  the  younger  ones  assembled 
with  Laurent  Pichat ;  both  young  and  old  could  be  met  in  the 
house  of  Madame  Adam,  who,  with  all  the  charm  of  her  lovely 
face  and  the  elegance  of  her  graceful  manners,  made  a  most 
delightful  hostess.  The  first  people  who  assembled  around  her 
were  for  the  most  part  literary  men  like  Henri  Martin,  Legouve, 
Hetzel  the  editor,  Gaston  Paris,  Bixio,  Garnier-Pages,  Toussenel, 
Nefftzer,  Texier,  Challemel-Lacour,  Jules  Ferry,  Pelletan — 
all  men  well  worthy  to  be  appreciated  by  her.  Some  are 
already  forgotten,  whilst  others  will  never  be  consigned  to 
oblivion  by  those  who  follow  them  on  the  road  of  life.  But 
very  soon  she  tried  to  draw  towards  her  all  the  younger 
forces  of  the  Republican  party,  concentrating  her  attention 
specially  upon  Gambetta.  She  did  not,  in  the  early  days, 
know  him,  but  Adam,  who  had  met  him  at  a  dinner  with 
Laurent  Pichat,  had  spoken  to  her  of  him  with  an  en- 
thusiasm that  surprised  her  the  more  because  he  was  not 
generally  addicted  to  such  expansive  feelings.  In  this  con- 

192 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

nection  she  relates  with  humour  that  she  spoke  to  Hetzel, 
and  asked  him  to  bring  to  one  of  her  dinners  the  young 
advocate,  who  had  made  for  himself  such  a  name  already 
and  whose  reputation  at  the  Bar  was  fast  becoming  consider- 
able, especially  since  he  had  defended  Delescluze  against 
the  government.  Hetzel  screamed  with  surprise  when  she 
proposed  it,  declaring  that  she  did  not  know  the  man  whom 
she  proposed  to  admit  at  her  hospitable  table.  Gambetta, 
he  told  her,  was  a  vulgar,  common  sort  of  individual,  blind 
of  one  eye,  dirty  and  unkempt,  with  black  nails,  and  walking 
about  in  disreputable  clothes  which,  to  add  to  his  uncouth 
appearance,  were  never  properly  put  on  or  properly  fastened. 
Madame  Adam  insisted  nevertheless.  Her  womanly  instinct 
had  guessed  that  if  the  man  in  question  was  really  in  posses- 
sion of  the  genius  attributed  to  him,  it  would  be  easy  for  him 
when  once  admitted  in  the  houses  of  civilised  people  to  adopt 
their  manners  and  to  polish  his  own.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
he  failed  to  notice  the  inadequacies  of  his  first  education,  he 
would  not  be  the  man  of  value  she  had  been  led  to  think  he 
could  become,  and  in  that  case  it  would  be  easy  to  drop  him 
after  this  first  attempt  at  drawing  him  from  the  society  with 
which  he  had  hitherto  associated.  But  she  wanted  to  judge 
for  herself,  she  persisted  with  Hetzel,  and  at  last  persuaded 
him  to  take  her  invitation  to  Gambetta. 

The  young  advocate  was  at  first  very  much  surprised. 
He  knew  Edmond  Adam,  had  vaguely  heard  he  had  a  wife, 
but  had  never  troubled  to  think  about  her  much,  therefore 
he  was  rather  astonished  to  find  himself  the  object  of  her 
attention ;  still  he  decided  to  go,  saying  at  the  same  time 
to  one  of  his  friends  of  the  Cafe  Procope,  where  he  generally 
used  to  spend  his  afternoons  :  "I  shall  accept ;  it  will  be 
curious  to  see  what  kind  of  woman  Adam's  bourgeoise  may 
be." 

N  193 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

A  large  and  distinguished  company  had  been  asked  to 
meet  the  Republican  orator.  Laurent  Pichat,  Eugene  Pelletan, 
Challemel-Lacour,  Jules  Ferry,  Hetzel,  of  course,  and,  lastly, 
the  Marquis  Jules  de  Lasteyrie,  an  intimate  friend  of  Thiers 
and  an  ardent  Orleanist,  who,  moreover,  was  one  of  the  most 
elegant  men  in  Paris.  The  latter  had  begged  hard  to  be 
included  in  that  dinner,  as  he  was  excessively  interested  in 
Gambetta,  and  having  arrived  a  little  in  advance  of  the  other 
guests,  he  said  to  Madame  Adam  that  he  would  repeat  all 
the  incidents  of  the  dinner  to  Thiers,  whom  he  knew  to  be 
very  anxious  to  hear  his  opinion  about  "  the  young  monster," 
as  he  called  him. 

Gambetta  had  imagined  that  he  was  going  to  one  of  those 
houses  where  an  utter  absence  of  the  conventionalities  of 
life  is  the  order  of  the  day,  and  that  consequently  he  would 
not  be  required,  as  it  were,  even  to  wash  his  hands  before 
making  his  appearance  at  the  hospitable  board  to  which 
he  had  been  bidden.  He  arrived  in  one  of  those  indescribable 
costumes  which  are  neither  evening  nor  morning  dress,  with 
a  waistcoat  buttoned  high  up  to  the  throat  and  a  flannel 
shirt.  He  found  the  whole  company  in  orthodox  evening 
dress,  and  his  hostess  in  a  lovely  velvet  costume,  out  of  which 
the  most  beautiful  pair  of  shoulders  were  looming  in  their 
snowy  whiteness.  He  tried  to  excuse  himself,  saying  vaguely  : 
"  If  I  had  only  guessed."  "  You  probably  would  have  refused 
my  invitation,"  replied  his  hostess.  "  It  is  not  nice  of  you 
to  say  so." 

Everybody  felt  more  or  less  embarrassed.  Lasteyrie, 
who  was  always  indulgent  with  the  extravagances  of  mankind, 
could  not  help  whispering  into  Adam's  ear  :  "  If  at  least 
he  had  donned  the  blouse  of  the  common  workman,  I  could 
have  forgiven  him,  but  this  kind  of  get  up  !  "  And  he  made 
a  gesture  of  despair. 

194 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

No  woman  alive  had  greater  tact  than  Madame  Adam. 
Seeing  the  embarrassment  of  Gambetta,  as  well  as  the  look 
of  disgust  with  which  her  other  guests  observed  him,  she  went 
up  to  the  Marquis  de  Lasteyrie,  and  in  a  low  voice  told  him 
that  in  order  to  try  and  mend  matters  she  was  going  to 
dispossess  him  from  the  seat  of  honour  which  belonged  to 
him  by  right,  and  to  give  her  arm  to  Gambetta.  "  You  are 
quite  right,"  replied  the  Marquis.  "  If  you  did  anything 
else,  the  servants  might  be  tempted  to  forget  to  offer  him 
some  soup.  And  besides,  this  will  allow  us  to  see  whether 
he  understands  great  things  and  their  meaning." 

Juliette  Lambert,  to  give  her  her  pseudonym  in  literature, 
to  her  husband's  amazement,  walked  up  to  Gambetta,  and 
took  his  arm  to  go  down  to  the  dining-room.  When  they 
were  seated,  the  Radical  leader  bent  down  towards  her  ear, 
and  in  very  humble  tones  told  her  that  he  would  never 
forget  the  lesson  she  had  given  to  him  in  such  a  delicate 
manner.  He  understood  the  meaning  of  great  things,  and 
had  emerged  to  his  honour  from  a  very  trying  experience. 

It  was,  however,  much  later  that  Gambetta  became  a 
regular  visitor  at  the  house  of  Madame  Adam.  Years  had 
passed  since  his  first  introduction  to  her,  and  poor  Juliette 
Lambert  had  gone  through  bitter  trials  that  had  left  their 
everlasting  impress  on  her  ardent  and  enthusiastic  nature. 
The  war  with  all  its  horrors,  the  Commune  with  all  its  terrors, 
had  shaken  her  bright  equanimity,  and  in  that  generous 
soul  one  feeling  had  taken  the  place  of  almost  every  other — 
a  deep  love  for  her  poor  humiliated  country ;  a  passionate 
desire  to  see  her  once  more  occupying  the  proud  position 
from  which  fate  and  the  mistakes  of  men  had  despoiled  her. 
Later  on,  when  the  husband  she  loved  so  fondly  was  snatched 
away  from  her,  and  when,  beside  her  daughter  and  the  children 
of  the  latter,  she  found  herself  with  no  one  to  love  in  the 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

whole  wide  world,  she  attached  herself  to  that  one  idea  and 
ambition — to  revenge  the  humiliations  of  1870,  to  get  back 
for  that  France,  to  whom  all  her  energies  were  devoted,  those 
provinces  which  she  had  lost,  and  to  revenge  herself  on  the 
conqueror  to  whom  she  had  owed  the  shattering  of  so  many 
of  her  brightest  dreams. 

She  had  always  been  the  enemy  of  the  Bonaparte  dynasty  ; 
she  could  not,  though  she  was  on  very  good  terms  with  several 
members  of  the  Orleans  family,  reconcile  herself  to  their 
stepping  upon  the  throne  left  vacant  by  Napoleon  III.  She 
had  always  adored  liberty,  that  of  nations  as  well  as  that  of 
individuals,  and  she  imagined  that  that  ideal  Republic  she 
had  dreamt  of  could  be  brought  into  existence  and  would  be 
able  to  give  back  to  France  her  glory  and  prestige. 

This  one  idea  dominated  all  her  actions  and  inspired 
all  her  writings.  She  used  all  the  resources  of  her  wonderful 
intelligence,  all  the  activity  of  her  remarkable  mind,  and 
all  her  knowledge  and  her  experience  of  the  world  to  realise 
it.  She  opened  once  more  the  doors  of  her  salon,  which  had 
remained  closed  after  the  death  of  Edmond  Adam,  and  though 
at  the  bottom  of  her  heart  an  inconsolable  widow,  she  forced 
herself  to  present  to  the  glances  of  others  the  appearance 
of  a  woman  without  heartache.  Everybody  who  approached 
her,  even  those  who  did  not  share  her  opinions  either  in  politics 
or  in  intellectual  and  moral  matters,  fell  under  the  influence 
of  her  charm,  and  were  subjugated  by  her  enthusiasm  and 
her  earnest,  ardent  words.  One  could  see  at  a  glance  that 
she  was  sincere,  true — a  friend  on  whom  one  could  always 
rely,  and  an  enemy  who  would  always  fight  loyally.  More- 
over, her  clear  mind  had  the  faculty  of  looking  into  the 
future  with  an  extraordinary  perspicacity,  and  she  seldom 
was  mistaken  in  her  judgments  of  men  or  facts.  She 
it  was  who  for  the  first  time  suggested  to  her  friends  the 

196 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

possibility  of  an  alliance  with  Russia,  by  which  French  prestige 
might  be  strengthened.  She  it  was  who  began  working  foi 
it  at  a  time  when  even  wise  political  men  in  both  countries 
only  smiled  when  such  a  thing  was  mentioned  in  their  presence. 

It  has  been  said  that  she  was  an  irreconcilable  enemy  of 
Germany.  In  a  certain  sense  this  was  true,  but  there  was 
no  preconceived  hatred  in  her  feelings.  She  detested  Germans 
because  she  had  seen  them  trampling  her  unfortunate  country 
under  their  feet,  because  she  had  owed  to  them  some  of  the 
bitterest  hours  she  had  had  to  go  through  in  her  life.  Yet 
she  had  no  aversion  to  German  culture,  and  could  recognise 
the  great  qualities  of  the  German  race,  qualities  which,  per- 
haps, gave  her  even  more  reasons  to  detest  it.  She  was 
above  everything  else  just.  Her  character  had  too  much 
real  greatness  about  it  ever  to  give  way  to  any  mean  or 
petty  feeling,  even  where  an  enemy  was  concerned. 

When  I  lived  in  Paris  I  used  to  see  her  daily.  She  was 
then  at  the  height  of  her  beauty  and  fame,  and  political  men 
of  all  shades  used  to  crowd  to  her  receptions,  and  to  bow 
down  before  her  splendid  grace  and  proud  demeanour.  She 
was  considered  as  the  real  Queen  of  the  Third  Republic,  and 
no  important  political  measure  was  undertaken  by  any  member 
of  the  government  of  that  day  without  her  having  been  con- 
sulted about  its  opportuneness.  No  one  ever  regretted  having 
asked  her  advice  or  trusted  to  the  clearness  of  her  judgments  ; 
nor  could  any  say  that  she  had  revealed  the  slightest  fraction 
of  all  the  secrets  of  state  which  had  been  confided  to  her. 

I  do  not  believe  a  more  discreet  person  ever  lived,  and 
it  is  a  great  deal  to  that  immense  and  so  rare  quality  that 
she  owed  the  influence  she  managed  to  acquire  with  all,  with- 
out exception,  who  came  into  contact  with  her.  I  can  talk 
about  it  the  more  easily  because  on  several  different  occasions 
I  had  the  opportunity  to  convince  myself  personally  of  her 

197 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

discretion.  Most  certainly  among  her  many  qualities  I 
believe  it  was  the  latter  that  her  friends,  and  among  them 
Gambetta,  appreciated  the  most  in  her.  The  great  orator 
had  never  forgotten  that  first  dinner  to  which  she  had  asked 
him,  and  later  on,  when  the  fall  of  the  Empire  had  drawn 
them  more  together,  he  began,  with  discretion  at  first  and 
with  impetuosity  at  last,  to  consult  her  and  to  confide  in  her 
all  his  dreams  of  glory.  She  grew  not  only  to  like  him,  but 
to  feel  for  him  a  great,  deep,  true  affection,  one  of  those  that 
a  woman  can  only  experience  when  she  has  reached  middle 
life,  known  what  the  storms  of  the  heart  mean,  and,  greatest 
joy  of  all,  felt  what  it  is  to  be  everything  and  yet  nothing 
in  another  man's  life.  One  can  boldly  affirm  that  it  was  she 
who  made  Gambetta  what  he  became  in  the  later  years  of 
his  life,  that  it  was  to  her  he  owed  the  great  development 
of  his  fighting  qualities,  as  well  as  the  great  dignity  of  which 
he  gave  proofs  in  so  many  important  questions,  a  dignity  that 
in  those  long  bygone  days,  when  he  had  appeared  with  a 
flannel  shirt  at  the  first  dinner  given  in  his  honour  by  Juliette 
Lambert,  no  one  supposed  he  could  ever  attain.  Gambetta, 
who  also  could  very  quickly  discover  the  good  and  the  bad 
sides  of  the  people  with  whom  he  was  thrown  into  contact, 
experienced  in  time  for  her  a  reverence  such  as  he  had  never 
imagined  he  could  feel  for  any  woman  in  the  wide  world. 
He  not  only  admired  her  mind,  but  he  also  recognised  the 
great  superiority  which  her  culture,  apart  from  everything 
else,  gave  her  over  him,  and  he  soon  turned  to  her  to  solve 
all  his  doubts,  and  to  be  advised  as  to  all  that  he  was  to  do 
to  successfully  reach  the  eminence  to  which  he  had  aspired 
from  the  first  day  he  arrived  in  Paris,  a  poor  student,  with 
hardly  enough  money  in  his  pocket  to  be  able  to  dine  every 
day. 

But,  strange  to  say,  when  one  thinks  of  the  exceptional 

198 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

physical  advantages  and  charm  of  Madame  Adam,  he  never 
for  one  single  moment  allowed  himself  to  pay  any  banal 
attentions  to  her ;  she  perhaps  was  not  quite  so  devoid  of 
a  nearer  feeling  of  attraction  towards  him. 

In  truth,  Gambetta  placed  her  so  high  in  his  thoughts 
that  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  to  discover  that 
underneath  the  adviser  and  counsellor,  to  whom  he  turned 
for  comfort  and  encouragement  at  almost  every  instant  of 
his  life,  there  could  exist  a  fair,  beautiful  woman  with  a 
womanly  heart  and  womanly  feelings.  He  did  not  realise 
that,  in  associating  herself  with  his  dreams  and  his  ambitions, 
she  also  associated  with  them,  perhaps  even  unknown  to  herself, 
her  own  future  and  her  own  existence.  Perhaps  this  mis- 
understanding, which  circumstances  and  not  their  own  will 
had  created  between  them,  influenced  their  relations  towards 
the  end  of  the  life  of  Garnbetta,  but,  let  it  be  said  to  the  honour 
of  Madame  Adam,  she  never  allowed  the  ignorance  of  her  charms 
in  which  her  friend  indulged  to  influence  her  friendship  for 
him,  and,  with  a  strength  of  character  such  as  very  few  women 
would  have  been  capable  of,  she  sacrificed  herself  to  his  future 
and  only  thought  of  his  successes.  She  tried  to  persuade 
herself  of  the  fact  she  had  contrived  long  ago  to  impress 
upon  others,  i.e.  that  she  was  living  only  for  her  child 
and  for  her  country,  and  that  she  was  above  everything 
a  great  patriot,  "  une  grande  fransaise,"  and  nothing 
else. 

She  still  believed  in  the  Republic  at  that  period  of  life 
when  I  first  met  her.  She  still  hoped  that  it  would  bring 
to  her  beloved  France  the  peace  and  the  prosperity  she  so 
passionately  desired  for  it.  Later  on,  however,  she  was 
destined  to  experience  in  that  hope,  too,  some  of  the  greatest 
disappointments  of  her  whole  life.  For  a  woman  with  high 
ideals  and  a  great  moral  aim,  as  was  the  case  with  her,  nothing 

199 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

could  be  harder  to  bear  than  the  slow  realisation  that  she 
had  nursed  a  false  ideal,  the  conviction  that  she  had  wor- 
shipped at  a  wrong  altar.  And  yet  this  great  trial  was  not 
spared  to  her  who  had  already  suffered  so  much.  Little  by 
little  the  scales  had  fallen  from  her  eyes,  and  she  discovered 
that  personal  ambitions,  personal  greed,  and  personal  intrigues 
flourish  just  as  much  and  just  as  well,  and  perhaps  even  more, 
under  a  republic  than  under  a  monarchy.  She  saw  that 
humanity  remains  unchangeable,  whilst  things  undergo  many 
transformations,  that  bad  passions  never  die,  and  that  good 
and  virtuous  people  are  always  the  victims  of  those  who 
are  their  inferiors  in  moral  worth. 

I  remember  one  evening  that  I  happened  to  be  alone  with 
Gambetta,  at  about  the  time  that  he  became  Prime  Minister, 
we  discussed  together  Madame  Adam.  He  spoke  of  her  with 
feelings  not  only  of  reverence,  but  also  with  an  admiration 
the  more  remarkably  expressed  in  that  it  was  done  without 
the  usual  enthusiasm  which  he  generally  displayed  when 
talking  about  things  or  people  who  were  near  to  his  heart. 
He  told  me  that  but  for  her  he  would  certainly  never  have 
reached  to  the  political  eminence  on  which  he  found  himself. 
We  were  old  friends,  and  I  could  allow  myself  to  touch  upon 
delicate  subjects  with  him ;  so  I  ventured  to  ask  him 
whether  the  beauty  of  Juliette  Lambert  had  ever  made  an 
impression  on  him.  He  replied  without  the  slightest  hesitation 
that  he  had  never  thought  about  it,  so  perfectly  superior  she 
had  appeared  to  him,  intellectually,  and  so  entirely  he  had  put 
her  upon  a  pedestal  whence  he  had  never  once  thought  that 
she  could  come  down.  I  asked  him  then  brutally  why  the 
thought  of  the  great  things  he  could  have  achieved  together 
with  her,  had  he  made  of  her  the  companion  of  his  life,  had 
never  struck  him.  Gambetta  looked  at  me  very  closely, 
then  after  a  few  moments  of  silence  softly  said  :  "I  would 

200 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

never  have  dared  to  allow  my  thoughts  to  rest  upon  that  idea, 
I  know  myself  but  too  well,  and  I  would  not  have  had  the 
courage  to  make  her  unhappy.  Believe  me,  that  woman 
would  never  suffer  more  from  anything  than  from  the  loss 
of  her  illusions,  and  she  sees  in  me  the  man  she  has  created, 
not  the  man  that  in  reality  I  am." 

I  have  often  thought  of  these  words,  of  the  great  Republican 
leader,  especially  when  in  later  years,  long  after  he  had  entered 
into  eternal  rest,  I  saw  Madame  Adam  once  again  on  my 
return  to  Paris  after  a  long  absence.  A  great  transformation 
had  taken  place  in  her.  She  had  witnessed  that  loss  of  her 
illusions  to  which  her  friend  had  referred,  and  suffered  from 
it  just  as  he  had  foreshadowed.  She  had  seen  her  beloved 
France  not  able  to  come  out  of  the  mesh  of  intrigues  and 
miseries  into  which  the  man  who  by  the  force  of  events  had 
become  ruler  had  entangled  France,  and  she  had  realised  that 
her  conception  of  a  Republic,  such  as  she  had  dreamt  of,  was 
an  impossibility ;  that  it  is  not  by  changing  its  form  of  govern- 
ment a  nation  rises  to  greatness  and  glory.  She  had  been  obliged 
to  assist,  powerless  to  avert  it,  the  destruction  of  all  the  plans 
which  she  had  made  together  with  those  men  who  had  been 
her  friends,  and  among  whom  so  many  had  become  her 
adversaries,  according  as  the  gulf  of  the  opinions  that  had 
come  to  divide  them  had  grown  broader  and  broader.  She 
had  experienced  that  grief  which  is  so  very  acute  to  a  warm, 
womanly  heart  such  as  hers,  of  finding  that  she  had  no 
longer  the  power  to  influence  those  who  formerly  had 
cherished  the  same  high  ideals  that  in  that  beautiful  world 
her  imagination  had  conjured  she  had  placed  before  every- 
thing else. 

Death,  too,  had  robbed  her  of  much  that  she  had 
leaned  upon,  both  in  France  and  abroad  ;  she  had  undergone 
those  fiery  trials  out  of  which  noble  souls  emerge  greater, 

20 1 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

nobler,  more  valiant  and  splendid  than  before,  but  under  the 
weight  of  which  vulgar  natures  are  destroyed.  After  all 
these  moral  struggles  and  inward  battles  she  had  acquired 
even  more  courage,  more  indulgence,  more  charity,  and  more 
faith  in  the  Infinite,  and  in  an  Eternity  to  which  perhaps 
she  had  not  given  much  attention  in  the  days  of  her  youth, 
when  the  world  was  at  her  feet  and  sovereigns  bowed  before 
her  inimitable  grace.  To  these  consolations  her  tired,  weary 
soul  turned  when  everything  else  had  failed  her.  The  trans- 
formation that  has  taken  place  in  the  personality  of  Juliette 
Lambert  is  one  of  those  phenomena  that,  when  met  with, 
remains  always  the  subject  of  the  deepest  admiration  on 
the  part  of  those  who  have  watched  the  change  come  about, 
and  have  followed  its  various  phases. 

Politics,  that  used  to  be  the  all-engrossing  subject  in  the 
life  of  Madame  Adam,  have  now  dropped  to  the  second  plane, 
and  purely  intellectual  subjects  engross  her  more.  Her  affec- 
tion for  her  beloved  France,  though  it  remains  still  the  one 
absorbing  passion  of  her  life,  is  no  longer  expressed  by  the  old 
wild  desire  to  see  France  revenged  upon  her  enemies.  Her 
patriotism  has  assumed  proportions  that  give  it  more  earnest- 
ness, more  steadfastness,  and  thus  it  makes  the  greater  impres- 
sion on  others,  and  carries  an  authority  that  passion,  when  ex- 
pressed violently,  can  never  attain.  She  has  obliged  strangers 
to  respect  her  patriotism,  and  to  see  her  in  that  graver,  sober 
light  which  alone  is  worthy  of  the  great  patriot  that  she 
has  always  been,  of  the  woman  who  in  success  as  well  as  in 
disaster  has  never  despaired  of  the  resources  of  her  country, 
nor  of  its  power  to  arise,  stronger  and  more  powerful  than 
it  was  before,  out  of  disaster  and  ruin,  and,  worse  evil  than  any 
other,  out  of  the  intrigues  of  unscrupulous  men  who  want 
to  use  her,  in  order  to  further  their  own  greed  or  their  own 
gain. 

202 


Madame  Juliette  Adam 

With  that  difference  Juliette  Lambert  in  her  old  age  has 
remained  what  she  was  in  her  youth,  a  noble,  charming  woman, 
kind  and  affectionate,  with  the  warmest  of  hearts  and  the 
most  generous  character.  She  lives  mostly  in  the  country, 
in  a  dear  old  house,  formerly  a  cloister  in  those  olden  times 
when  a  king  reigned  over  France.  L'Abbaye  du  Val  de  Gyf, 
as  it  is  called,  is  one  of  those  lovely  dwellings  where  every- 
thing speaks  of  peace  and  rest,  and  of  the  high  soul  and  earnest 
mind  of  its  owner.  There,  among  her  books  and  her  roses, 
and  her  dogs  and  her  birds,  she  lives  in  quietness,  and  spends 
her  days  thinking  of  the  past,  and  writing  her  wonderful 
reminiscences.  There  her  friends  come  and  see  her,  as  often 
as  she  allows  them  to  do  so,  there  one  of  her  best  loved  friends, 
the  unfortunate  Queen  Amelie  of  Portugal,  has  often  fled  for 
consolation,  because  the  closest  intimacy  unites  the  fiery 
Republican  and  the  daughter  of  the  Bourbons.  There  Madame 
Adam  forgets  her  disillusions,  and  thinks  only  of  the  good 
things  which  life  has  left  her. 

The  last  time  I  saw  her  in  her  beautiful  home  at  Gyf 
we  talked  about  old  times,  and  all  those  hopes  of  the 
great  things  which  we  both  had  expected  out  of  the  Franco- 
Russian  alliance.  She  frankly  owned  to  me  that  it  had  not 
realised  the  great  hopes  that  she  had  trusted  it  would,  and 
rather  bitterly  remarked  that  "things  we  yearn  after  very 
much  never  turn  out  quite  like  we  have  expected  they  will 
when  they  come  to  be  realised.  But  then,"  she  added  with 
a  shade  of  malice,  "  how  very  seldom  do  we  see  what  we  wish 
for  realised  in  general  ?  " 

And  thus  I  take  leave  of  her,  after  an  acquaintance  that 
stretches  over  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  the  same 
loving,  delightful,  clever  and  kind  woman  that  she  has  always 
been,  with  her  serene  smile,  and  grave,  serious  eyes  that  have 
always  looked  upon  humanity  through  the  windows  of  her 

203 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

soul,  and  never  through  the  spectacles  of  envy,  hatred,  or 
any  of  those  bad  feelings  that  most  human  beings  indulge 
in.  An  exception  she  has  always  stood  amongst  women, 
and  an  exception  she  will  remain  for  all  those  who  later  on, 
even  when  she  too  has  disappeared  from  this  mortal  scene, 
will  read  about  her,  and  think  what  a  noble,  beautiful  creature 
she  has  always  proved  herself  to  be. 


204 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

A  FEW  LITERARY  MEN 

DURING  the  many  years  which  I  spent  in  Paris  I  had  numerous 
opportunities  of  meeting  the  majority  of  the  remarkable 
literary  men  who  abounded  in  France  towards  the  end  of 
last  century.  Since  then  their  number  has  considerably 
decreased,  indeed  it  is  very  much  to  be  doubted  whether 
the  great  thinkers,  such  as  Taine,  Renan,  Guizot,  or  Thiers, 
have  ever  been  replaced. 

I  knew  Renan  intimately,  and  wish  I  could  describe  him 
as  he  deserves.  To  hear  certain  people  speak  of  the  author 
of  the  "  Origines  du  Christianisme  "  one  would  think  that 
he  was  a  ferocious  hater,  not  only  of  religion,  but  also  of  every- 
thing that  approached  it.  In  reality  Renan  was  intensely 
religious.  Few  people  have  understood  so  fully  the  beauties 
of  the  moral  preached  by  Christ,  and  few  people  have  had 
more  reverence  for  the  sacred  individuality  of  the  Saviour 
of  mankind.  He  tried  to  imitate  Him  in  all  the  actions  of 
his  life,  to  be,  like  Him,  kind  and  indulgent  and  compassionate 
for  the  woes  of  the  world.  From  his  sojourn  in  the  seminary 
of  St.  Sulpice,  he  had  kept  the  demeanour  and  the  manners 
of  a  Catholic  priest,  and  do  what  he  could,  that  atmosphere 
clung  to  him. 

But  he  had  a  quality  which  many  clericals  fail  to  possess, 
a  very  clear  insight  into  religious  matters,  and  the  faculty 
of  being  able  to  set  aside  what  was  superstition,  and  retaining 

205 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

what  could  be  kept  of  the  poetry  that  attaches  to  the  teachings 
of  the  different  churches  that  divide  the  world.  He  always 
sought  truth,  and  never  rested  until  he  thought  he  had  found 
it,  but  he  never  gave  out  his  own  ideas  as  perfect  ones,  nor 
tried  to  impose  them  upon  others.  His  was  essentially  an 
impartial  and  a  tolerant  mind.  Indeed  his  thoughts  were 
so  constantly  directed  towards  those  regions  where  it  is  to  be 
hoped  eternal  truth  exists,  that  he  did  not  believe  it  worth 
while  to  assume  an  intolerance  which  I  do  not  think  he  could 
ever  have  felt,  no  matter  in  what  circumstances  nor  under  what 
provocation.  I  have  never  met  a  man  more  indifferent  to 
criticisms  directed  against  his  person  or  his  works,  and  I 
remember  once  when  a  very  bitter  article  concerning  his  book, 
"  La  Vie  de  Jesus,"  had  been  brought  to  his  notice,  he 
merely  smiled  and  quietly  said  :  "  Why  do  you  think  I  must 
be  angry  at  this  ?  Isn't  every  one  entitled  to  have  an  opinion 
of  his  own  ?  " 

This  book,  so  wonderful  in  its  simplicity,  among  all  those 
which  he  had  written,  was  the  one  he  cared  for  the  most, 
partly  because  he  had  composed  it  in  collaboration  with  his 
sister,  Henriette  Renan,  who  had  such  a  singular  influence 
over  his  life,  and  who  was  as  remarkable  a  personality  as 
himself.  During  the  journey  which  they  had  undertaken 
together  in  the  Holy  Land,  they  had  thought  about  the 
book  which  they  wanted  to  write.  In  his  "  Souvenirs 
d'Enfance  et  de  Jeunesse,"  Renan  recognises  that  the  person 
who  had  had  the  greatest  influence  over  his  mind  had  been 
his  sister,  and  he  walked  in  the  road  her  footsteps  had 
trodden  until  he  also  saw  the  great  Light  after  which 
they  had  both  longed  so  much.  In  speaking  about  him, 
one  could  use  with  justice  the  words  he  applied  to  his 
sister  when  he  wrote  that  "  though  noble  lives  haven't  the 
need  to  be  remembered  by  anyone  else  than  God,  one  must 

206 


- 


A  Few  Literary  Men 

nevertheless  try  to  fix  their  image  in  the  minds  of  the  genera- 
tions that  come  after  them." 

I  am  thinking  about  these  words  as  I  am  now  remembering 
all  the  conversations  we  had  together,  and  the  patience  with 
which  he  explained  to  me  all  the  various  points  I  asked  him 
to  develop.  He  was  patience  personified ;  he  never  regarded 
anything  trouble  when,  by  inconvenience  to  himself,  he 
could  be  useful  to  others.  His  conversations  were  always 
instructive,  always  attractive,  and  always  worth  listening  to, 
even  when  they  strayed  on  to  frivolous  subjects,  which  he 
often  liked  to  touch.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Renan 
was  a  grave  philosopher  who  did  not  care  for  the  congenial 
or  the  pleasant,  or  the  amusing  things  which  happen  in  life. 
He  could  enjoy  mirth  like,  and  with  the  frankness  of,  a  child. 

His  works  have  been  discussed  more  perhaps  than  those 
of  most  writers  of  his  time,  and  though  they  have  left  a  deep 
impress  upon  the  minds  of  serious  people,  no  one  who  has  read 
them  can  say  that  their  influence  has  been  anything  else  but 
to  good.  The  image  that  he  has  drawn  for  us  of  the  person 
of  Christ  is  so  pure,  so  noble,  so  entirely  religious,  that 
even  those  who  object  to  the  way  in  which  he  has 
presented  it  cannot  but  be  attracted  by  the  image  that  his 
pen  has  evoked. 

However  strange  it  may  seem  to  say  so,  Renan  himself 
was  more  surprised  than  anyone  else  to  find  he  had  written 
a  work  which  evoked  so  many  criticisms.  He  had  been  so 
entirely  absorbed  by  his  subject  that  he  had  never  given  a 
thought  to  anything  else  but  the  picture  of  the  Redeemer, 
such  as  it  had  presented  itself  to  him,  in  the  spot  which  had 
seen  Him  work  and  die.  He  had  never  intended  publishing 
a  book  of  controversy,  and  in  presence  of  the  storm  which 
it  provoked  he  was  even  more  astounded  than  sorry.  It 
was  not  in  his  nature  to  be  angry,  and  regret  was  impossible 

207 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

for  a  soul  like  his,  which  only  performed  what  it  thought 
and  firmly  believed  to  be  right. 

Contrary  to  the  feeling  some  express  about  him,  Renan 
had  never  indulged  in  atheistic  opinions,  and  he  strongly  con- 
demned and  opposed  those  who  supported  them.  His  belief 
and  faith  in  a  Supreme  Being  were  as  firm  as  they  were  sincere, 
and  he  only  deplored  that  his  convictions  had  not  allowed  him 
to  remain  a  son  of  the  Catholic  Church,  in  which  in  his  youth 
he  had  hoped  to  become  a  priest.  Her  teachings  had  left 
their  impress  upon  his  soul,  and  directed  it  towards  the  deeper 
studies  in  which  he  became  absorbed. 

Renan  had  married  a  woman  well  worthy  of  him,  and  who 
made  him  a  wonderful  helpmate.  She  knew  how  to  smooth 
all  difficulties  from  his  path,  and  proved  well  fitted  for  her 
difficult  position  as  the  wife  of  one  of  the  greatest  thinkers 
of  modern  times.  She  was  an  accomplished  hostess.  To 
the  evening  parties  which  saw  their  friends  assembled  in 
their  little  home  in  the  Rue  de  1'Observatoire,  she  gave  the 
impress  of  her  own  charming  personality,  and  presided  over 
the  conversations  with  immense  tact  and  dignity.  Their 
daughter,  who  married  a  professor  at  the  Sorbonne,  M.  Psichari, 
a  Greek  by  origin,  continued  the  traditions  left  to  her  by 
her  parents,  and  until  lately  had  a  literary  salon,  which  was 
well  known  in  Paris.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  still  exists 
or  not. 

Renan  was  extremely  ugly;  this  has  been  repeated  too 
often  for  anyone  not  to  be  aware  of  it.  But  a  more  attractive 
face  than  he  possessed  is  not  easily  to  be  found.  There  was 
such  kindness  in  his  smile,  in  the  look  of  his  eyes,  and  such 
intelligence  in  that  large  head  with  its  noble  brow,  that  one 
could  not  help  being  struck  by  it,  and  admiring  it  far  more 
than  if  it  had  indeed  been  a  beautiful  face.  The  painter 
Bonnat  has  made  a  portrait  of  him  that  is,  I  think,  the  best 

208 


A  Few  Literary  Men 

one  that  has  ever  come  from  his  brush.  It  shows  Renan 
as  he  really  was  ;  one  has  only  got  to  look  at  it,  and  the 
original  appears  as  we,  who  knew  him  well,  saw  him  sitting 
in  his  deep  arm-chair,  with  his  head  slightly  bent  down  on 
his  chest,  and  the  expressive  countenance  that  used  to  brighten 
up  whenever  he  met  a  friend,  or  heard  about  some  noble 
deed  such  as  he  himself  would  have  liked  to  perform.  It 
was  impossible  to  know  him  and  not  to  admire  the  man  in  him, 
even  more,  perhaps,  than  the  great  thinker  or  the  great  writer, 
because,  after  all,  intellect  or  genius  can  be  met  sooner  than 
real  virtue  or  real  goodness — and  Renan  was  essentially  good. 
From  Renan  to  Taine  is  not  a  far  step,  and  somehow  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  latter's  name  is  the  only  one  worthy 
to  be  pronounced  immediately  after  that  of  my  old  friend  and 
master.  I  have  also  known  Taine  well,  met  him  often,  and 
always  been  struck  by  his  large,  wide  mind,  so  utterly  devoid 
of  prejudices,  and  at  the  same  time  so  absolute  in  the  judg- 
ments which  he  thought  he  had  the  right  to  formulate.  I 
must  emphasise  the  words,  "  which  he  thought  he  had  the 
right,"  because  those  judgments  assume  the  intelligence  as 
well  as  the  moral  personality  of  Hippolyte  Taine.  He  was  an 
historian  before  everything  else,  perhaps  even  before  he  was  a 
critic,  though  he  counts  among  the  greatest  that  French  litera- 
ture has  seen ;  but  his  inclinations  led  him  before  everything 
else  towards  the  study  of  the  past,  and  of  the  causes  that 
had  brought  about  the  great  transformations  that  the  world 
has  witnessed,  ever  since  society  in  the  sense  we  understand 
it  to-day  began  to  exist ;  and  whilst  trying  to  fathom  these 
causes  he  slowly  came  to  convictions,  which  he  never  would 
renounce  when  once  he  thought  them  justified.  Nothing 
would  move  him  to  change  one  line  in  the  writings  which, 
after  due  consideration,  he  decided  to  publish,  and  even  his 
long  friendship  with  the  Princesse  Mathilde  did  not  influence 
o  209 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

him  in  describing  Napoleon  in  any  other  sense  than  the  one 
in  which  he  had  understood  that  colossal  figure.  The  story 
goes  that  after  having  read  the  study  which  he  first  gave 
to  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  she  sent  him  her  card 
with  "  p.p.c."  written  on  it,  a  hint  which  he  took,  and  as  is 
known  everywhere,  their  intercourse  of  many  years  came  to  an 
end. 

Taine  used  to  spend  the  greater  part  of  the  year  at  Menthon, 
in  Savoy,  on  the  borders  of  the  Lake  of  Annecy,  and  it  was 
during  a  visit  which  I  paid  to  him  there,  from  Aix-les-Bains 
where  I  was  undergoing  a  cure,  that  I  had  with  him  the  longest 
and  perhaps  the  most  interesting  conversation  in  the  whole 
time  of  our  intercourse  with  each  other.  We  discussed  many 
subjects,  and  among  others  his  great  work,  the  "  Origines 
de  la  France  Contemporaine."  He  told  me  how  he  had 
begun  it  with  the  intention  of  stopping  after  the  first  two 
volumes  devoted  to  the  Ancien  Regime,  and  how  gradually 
the  subject  had  taken  hold  of  him  and  he  had  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  must  develop  it,  and  bring  it  to  the  point 
which  he  considered  to  be  the  only  right  one  for  properly 
understanding  the  immense  and  terrible  drama  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. He  hated  anarchy,  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  show 
it  up  in  all  its  vivid  horror,  and  he  tried  to  write  the 
story  of  that  tragedy  with  the  same  impartiality  he  would 
have  brought  to  bear  on  the  description  of  it  in  any  other 
country  than  his  own. ,  As  he  told  me  on  that  day  :  "  C'est 
un  pauvre  patriotisme  que  celui  qui  s'imagine  que  Ton  doit 
excuser  les  crimes  de  son  pays,  simplement  par  ce  qu'on  en 
est  un  citoyen  ("  It  is  a  poor  kind  of  patriotism  which  imagines 
that  it  must  excuse  the  crimes  of  its  own  country,  simply 
because  one  is  born  a  citizen  "). 

With  this  direction  of  mind  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
that,  though  admired  by  many,  Taine  was  merely  liked  by 

2IO 


A  Few  Literary  Men 

the  few.  He  could  not  be  complaisant  to  the  illusions  or 
the  false  idols  of  the  crowd,  and  he  repudiated  all  that  he 
called  in  his  expressive  language,  "  les  exagerations  d'ignorants 
qui  se  croient  instruits  "  ("  the  exaggerations  of  ignoramuses 
who  believe  themselves  learned").  He  was  a  philosopher 
in  his  way,  though  it  was  entirely  a  personal  philosophy 
which  was  founded  on  his  own  experience  rather  than  on 
the  teachings  of  those  who  had  preceded  him  on  the  road  of 
life  and  knowledge.  Living  most  of  his  time  far  away  from 
Paris,  he  was,  according  to  the  words  of  Balzac,  one  of  those 
great  minds  "  which  solitude  had  preserved  from  all  worldly 
meannesses."  Left  face  to  face  with  the  magnificences  of 
Nature,  he  had  acquired  some  of  its  impassivity  before  the 
woes  of  mankind,  and  in  his  judgments  of  events  he  often 
forgot  the  tears  and  the  sorrows,  and  the  blood  out  of  which 
they  had  developed. 

Renan  was  a  soft  and  kind  moralist,  Taine  was  an  in- 
exorable thinker,  Dumas  Fils  was  the  type  of  the  sceptical 
worldly  philosopher  who  hastens  to  follow  the  advice  of 
Figaro,  that  it  is  better  to  laugh  at  some  things  for  fear  of 
being  obliged  to  cry  over  them.  Anything  more  sparkling 
than  his  conversation  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe,  anything 
more  amusing  than  the  paradoxes  which  he  loved  to  develop 
has  never  been  met  with.  But  with  it  all  there  was  also  about 
that  charming,  delightful  man  a  strong  leaning  towards  the 
tendency  to  moralise,  and  to  pose  as  a  moralist.  Indeed  he 
might,  perhaps,  have  become  a  moralist  in  fact,  had  his 
rambling,  sharp  mind  allowed  him  to  think  about  moral 
problems  otherwise  than  in  associating  them  with  his  "  bons 
mots."  These  constitute  the  great  attraction  of  his  plays, 
and  give  to  some  of  them  that  bitter  flavour  which,  in  spite 
of  all  the  wit  displayed  in  the  dialogue,  hangs  about  their 
whole  construction. 

211 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

In  his  sadly  truthful  comedy,  "  La  Visite  de  Noces,"  the 
analysis  which  he  makes  there  of  the  great  fact,  which 
especially  in  France  has  absorbed  so  much  of  public  attention, 
the  fact  of  love  outside  marriage,  is  certainly  full  of  ingenious 
reasonings.  But  though  it  strikes  the  mind,  it  does  not  appeal 
to  the  heart  of  those  who  listen  to  it,  because  it  is  not  with 
witty  phrases  that  a  social  evil  can  be  mended.  However, 
this  last  fact  did  not  disturb  the  equanimity  of  Alexandre 
Dumas.  He  did  not  pose  as  an  apostle,  and  he  knew  very 
well  that  principles  fall  down  very  easily  before  the  strength 
of  passion  aroused.  He  had  no  hopes  of  curing  the  evils 
of  mankind,  but  it  amused  him  to  satirise  them,  and  to  laugh 
at  them,  and  to  talk  of  them,  and  he  did  perhaps  more  than 
any  other  writer  of  his  generation  to  acclimatise  society  to 
the  fact  of  the  existence  of  many  things,  which  until  he  made 
them  popular  had  never  been  mentioned — in  the  society 
of  ladies  at  least. 

Alexandre  Dumas  was  married  to  a  Russian,  a  very  in- 
telligent and,  in  her  youth,  a  very  attractive  woman,  but  who, 
towards  the  end  of  her  life,  developed  slatternly  habits.  Those 
who  called  upon  her  unawares  found  her  with  her  hair  wrapped 
up  in  curl-papers,  her  face  seldom  washed,  and  in  an  un- 
tidy dressing-gown,  the  garment  she  most  affected.  I  re- 
member one  morning  at  Dieppe,  where  the  clever  dramatist 
had  a  villa,  I  found  her  sitting  in  her  garden  overlooking 
the  sea,  in  a  kind  of  white  wrapper,  none  too  fresh,  and  without 
any  stockings  on  her  feet.  When  lunch  was  announced  Dumas 
turned  to  his  wife  and  asked  her  whether  she  would  not  tidy 
herself  up  a  bit,  to  which  she  replied  with  indifference  :  "  Why, 
I  am  all  right."  To  watch  her  husband  shrug  his  shoulders 
was  a  sight  in  itself. 

Two  daughters  were  born  to  M.  and  Mme.  Dumas.  The 
eldest  married  a  banker,  Maurice  Lippmann,  with  whom  she 

212 


Photo:  H.  Manuel,  Pans. 

MADAME   JULIETTE  ADAM 


Photo  :  Pierre  Petit,  Paris. 
ALEX.    DUMAS   (Pere) 


Photo:   H.   Manuel,  Paris. 

ANATOLE   FRANCE 


Photo :  Ccrschcl,  Paris' 
OCTAVE  MIRBEAU 


A  Few  Literary  Men 

could  not  agree,  and  a  divorce  soon  followed.  Colette  Dumas 
was  a  pretty,  wild  kind  of  creature,  gifted  with  a  charm 
quite  her  own,  and  absolutely  devoid  of  what  is  commonly 
called  moral  sense.  She  had  never  been  baptised,  and  she 
was  never  brought  up,  but  simply  grew  as  she  liked,  mostly 
in  her  father's  study,  where  she  heard  expounded  the  whole 
time  the  theories  after  which  she  tried  later  on  to  shape  her 
own  life.  There  was  no  harm  about  her,  but,  alas,  no  principles 
ever  ruled  her  conduct,  and  a  more  lovely  little  animal  never 
existed.  The  poor  girl  discovered  later  on  that  life  was  not 
the  comedy  she  had  been  led  to  think  it,  and  before  she  died 
a  few  years  ago  she  must  have  often  regretted  the  false  educa- 
tion that  she  had  received,  and  lamented  the  views  which  she 
had  taken  of  existence,  which  to  her  youthful  eyes  had  appeared 
in  the  light  of  one  great  enjoyment. 

Her  sister  Jeannine  was  quite  a  different  character,  as 
sedate  as  Colette  was  hasty,  and  with  strong  common  sense 
instead  of  passionate  cravings  after  the  impossible.  She 
was  married  to  an  officer  belonging  to  the  old  aristocracy, 
and  she  knew  very  well  how  to  adapt  herself  to  her  new 
existence  in  the  provincial  town  where  she  settled,  and  where, 
like  all  happy  people,  she  had  no  history. 

At  the  time  I  am  writing  the  description,  the  Goncourts 
were  talked  about  a  great  deal  in  French  literary  circles. 
I  have  attended  receptions  at  their  house,  but  I  never  could 
share  the  enthusiasm  that  some  of  their  writings  excited 
among  the  general  public.  They  were  both  clever,  Jules  the 
more  so  of  the  two,  but  though  they  showed  themselves  very 
hard  workers,  one  can  well  question  the  use  their  work  has 
proved  to  the  development  of  the  intellectual  capacities  of 
their  contemporaries.  It  is  very  much  to  be  doubted  whether 
their  books  will  survive  them  for  any  considerable  time.  One 
thing  is  certain,  they  were  the  first  to  start  the  school  of 

213 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

self-admiration  that  now  reigns  so  completely  over  French 
modern  literature. 

Of  quite  a  different  type  was  the  Comte  de  Falloux,  a 
member  of  the  Academy,  and  a  writer  of  no  mean  talent. 
The  Comte  was  just  as  well  known  for  his  political  as  for  his 
literary  activity,  and  he  represented  in  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  and  afterwards  in  the  Senate,  the  Legitimist  party, 
of  which  he  was  one  of  the  leaders,  and  where  his  opinion 
carried  much  weight.  M.  de  Falloux  was  an  Ultramontane 
of  the  purest  water,  who  always  looked  towards  Rome  for  his 
inspirations,  and  who  saw  nothing  good  outside  the  Pope 
and  the  Jesuits.  He  was  a  great  favourite  among  a  certain 
coterie  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  and  though  a  great 
friend  of  Mgr.  Dupanloup,  the  famous  Bishop  of  Orleans, 
used  always  to  quarrel  with  him,  and  thought  him  far  too 
liberal  and  too  leniently  inclined  towards  compromise,  his 
own  stern,  obstinate  nature  never  accepting  any.  He  was 
extremely  well  read,  but  he  was  not  an  amiable  man,  and 
certainly  was  not  sympathetic.  He  was  a  man  of  letters 
belonging  to  that  school  of  grand  seigneurs  of  which  the 
Due  de  Broglie  and  the  Due  d'Audiffret  Pasquier  were  such 
brilliant  examples. 

Though  I  shall  speak  later  on  about  M.  Zola  when  dis- 
cussing the  Dreyfus  case,  which  is  so  entirely  associated  with 
his  name,  yet  I  must  also  here  say  a  few  words  concerning 
hmi.  In  the  'eighties — the  period  to  which  I  am  referring — 
he  had  already  made  a  great  name  for  himself  as  the  father 
of  the  new  Naturalistic  school.  Whether  he  had  directed 
his  attention  that  way  because  he  really  believed  that 
fictional  literature,  such  as  it  had  been  understood  until 
he  arrived  to  transform  it,  was  based  on  false  principles  I  cannot 
say.  Perhaps  he  simply  wanted  to  make  more  money  in 
trying  to  offer  to  the  public  something  that  hitherto  it  had 

214 


A  Few  Literary  Men 

not  seen,  and  which  was  bound  to  interest  it  by  its  unex- 
pectedness if  by  nothing  else.  But  what  I  can  certify 
through  personal  knowledge  of  the  man  is  that  he  had  enough 
vanity  to  prefer  being  hissed  than  passed  by  in  silence.  That 
he  had  considerable  talent  no  one  can  deny,  but  that  he  might 
have  used  it  in  a  different  direction  is  also  not  to  be  questioned. 
One  effect  of  his  style  was  to  turn  the  heads  of  would-be 
authors,  who,  not  having  the  necessary  capabilities  to  write  a 
good  book,  imagined  that  by  imitating  Zola,  and  scribbling 
plots  of  questionable  taste,  they  would  likewise  rise  to  fame, 
and,  what  was  still  better,  earn  fortune,  forgetting  entirely 
that  talent  such  as  Zola  possessed  could  allow  itself  a  latitude 
which  people  with  fewer  capabilities  were  better  advised  not 
to  attempt. 

M.  Zola  married  a  very  superior  and  most  intelligent 
woman,  who  was  gifted  with  most  remarkable  qualities  of  heart 
and  mind.  She  showed  extraordinary  dignity,  and  most 
uncommon  forbearance  in  regard  to  her  husband,  whose 
memory  to  this  day  she  tries  to  defend  against  any  possible 
attack.  When  he  died  she  took  to  her  heart  two  children 
of  which  he  was  the  father,  and  brought  them  up,  and  estab- 
lished them  in  the  world  with  a  total  abnegation  of  her  own 
personal  feelings.  Indeed,  Madame  Zola's  conduct  in  life, 
even  under  the  most  trying  circumstances,  must  always  be 
admired.  She  certainly  was  far  superior  to  her  husband  in 
regard  to  moral  character,  and  she  is  liked  and  esteemed 
by  all  those  who  have  had  the  privilege  of  meeting  and 
knowing  her. 

In  thus  recounting  the  literary  men  I  have  met  with  in 
Paris  I  find  I  have  forgotten  to  mention  Alphonse  Daudet, 
with  his  leonine  countenance  and  his  black  locks.  And 
yet  I  knew  him  better  than  I  did  Zola,  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  his  house,  and  a  great  admirer  of  his  amiable  and  clever 

215 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

wife,  who  has  since  also  made  a  name  for  herself  in  the  world 
of  letters.  Daudet  was  an  extremely  capricious  man,  and 
one  whose  temper  was  of  the  same  character,  but  his  abilities 
were  incontestable,  and  some  of  his  books  will  very  probably 
outlive  those  of  Zola.  When  he  happened  to  be  entirely 
in  good  health,  which  unfortunately  was  not  often  the  case 
in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  Daudet  was  a  most  pleasant  com- 
panion, full  of  conversation,  and  possessing  the  French  spirit 
of  "  le  mot  pour  rire."  I  remember  he  made  us  roar  one 
afternoon  by  relating  to  us  how  once  he  had  received  an 
anonymous  letter,  in  which  he  was  asked,  in  case  he  was 
"  tall,  fair,  with  blue  eyes,  and  wore  a  pink  tie,"  to  come 
to  a  rendezvous  in  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries.  The  writer 
obligingly  added  that  unless  he  fulfilled  these  conditions 
in  his  personal  appearance,  and  consented  to  put  on  a  pink 
tie,  he  had  better  not  waste  his  time  by  coming,  as  the  lady 
who  wanted  to  make  his  acquaintance  was  determined  to 
do  so  only  if  he  fulfilled  the  ideal  she  had  nursed  for  long 
years.  It  seemed  that  the  ideal  in  question  depended  for 
a  great  part  on  the  pink  tie. 

Alphonse  Daudet  left  two  sons  and  a  daughter.  Leon 
Daudet,  his  eldest  boy,  has  also  written  psychological  books, 
but  they  evince  none  of  his  father's  wit.  He  also  has  made 
himself  conspicuous  by  his  political  vagaries,  and  his  divorce 
from  the  granddaughter  of  Victor  Hugo,  which,  owing  to 
certain  rather  strange  circumstances  connected  with  it,  caused 
considerable  scandal.  He  is  a  fervent  Catholic,  but  having, 
out  of  consideration  to  the  feelings  of  the  Hugo  family,  con- 
sented to  be  married  only  at  the  mairie,  without  the  help  of 
the  Church,  he  had  the  bad  taste  to  say  publicly,  when  he 
married  again,  that  his  first  marriage  had  not  been  legal, 
which,  of  course,  was  severely  commented  upon  even  by  his 
best  friends.  His  brother,  Lucien  Daudet,  is  a  mild  young 

216 


A  Few  Literary  Men 

man,  who  has  also  literary  ambitions,  and  whose  principal 
occupation  consists  in  attendance  on  the  Empress  Eugenie, 
whom  he  has  attempted  to  describe  in  a  little  volume  that 
could  not  have  been  pleasant  reading  for  the  Empress,  because 
nobody  gifted  with  common  sense  likes  to  be  turned  into 
a  perfection  and  a  genius  rolled  into  one,  or  whilst  still 
alive  to  be  subjected  to  such  extravagant  praise.  The 
youngest  brother  of  Alphonse  Daudet,  Ernest  Daudet,  is  also 
a  writer,  who  has  given  his  attention  principally  to  historic 
subjects.  His  books  are  all  worth  reading,  if  a  little  dull, 
and  he  is  a  great  favourite  in  the  salons  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain,  where  his  monarchical  opinions  have  won  him  an 
entrance. 

I  wish  I  had  more  space  at  my  disposal  to  mention  otherwise 
than  in  passing  Jules  Claretie,  the  late  Director  of  the  Come'die 
Frangaise,  and  the  author  of  so  many  charming  novels,  which 
mostly  can  be  put  into  everybody's  hands.  Many  people  did 
not  like  him,  but  those  who  knew  him  well  have  always 
felt  great  sympathy  for  him.  He  wrote  the  French  language 
as  no  one  else  perhaps,  with  a  light,  pleasant,  vivid  style 
that  at  once  conveyed  to  the  reader  the  author's  thoughts 
and  his  way  of  looking  upon  things.  For  years  before  his 
death  in  1914  he  wrote  a  delightful  weekly  chronicle  for  the 
Temps,  called  "  La  vie  a  Paris,"  which  will  certainly  be  con- 
sulted later  on  by  all  who  wish  to  learn  the  social  history  of 
Paris  of  the  period. 


217 


CHAPTER    XIX 

THE  i6iH  OF  MAY  AND  THE  FALL  OF  MARSHAL  MACMAHON 

WHEN,  after  the  fall  of  M.  Thiers,  the  Due  de  Magenta  was 
elected  second  President  of  the  Third  Republic,  it  was  gener- 
ally understood,  as  I  have  mentioned  already,  that  he  would 
only  be  the  representative  of  a  transitional  government,  and 
that,  accepting  the  tacit  conditions  under  which  he  had  been 
appointed,  he  would  contribute  all  the  weight  of  his  authority 
to  secure  the  return  of  France  to  the  flag  of  the  old  Monarchy. 

But  Marshal  MacMahon,  when  he  became  Head  of 
the  State,  did  not  show  the  slightest  disposition  to  enter 
into  that  scheme.  Not  only  did  he  disappoint  the  party 
which  had  voted  for  him,  because  it  had  believed  that  he  would 
be  an  instrument  in  its  hands,  but  he  showed  strong  sym- 
pathies for  the  Left  side  of  that  Assembly  which  had  over- 
thrown the  previous  President  more  out  of  pique  than  any- 
thing else.  He  took  ministers  holding  opinions  directly  in 
contradiction  to  those  which  he  himself  had  been  supposed 
to  profess,  and  when  at  last,  in  November,  1873,  the  Comte 
de  Chambord  arrived  secretly  at  Versailles,  as  I  have  already 
related,  and  asked  the  Marshal  to  grant  him  a  secret  interview 
during  which  the  political  situation  was  to  be  discussed, 
the  latter  refused,  with  the  hypocritical  words  that,  though 
he  was  quite  ready  to  sacrifice  his  life  for  the  Prince,  he  could 
not  do  the  dishonourable  thing  that  was  asked  of  him. 

It  was  that  word  "  dishonourable  "  that  upset  the  Comte 
de  Chambord.  Himself  the  soul  of  honour,  he  could  not 

218 


Fall  of  Marshal  MacMahon 

but  be  affronted  by  the  supposition  that  he  could  have  had 
the  intention  to  ask  from  the  Due  de  Magenta  anything  that 
could  have  compromised  his  loyalty  as  a  man  or  as  a  soldier. 
I  believe  this  had  more  than  any  other  thing  to  do  with  the 
discouragement  that  made  him  seize  the  pretext  of  his  white 
flag  in  order  to  renounce  his  pretensions  to  the  throne  of 
his  ancestors.  A  good  many  years  later,  talking  about  Marshal 
MacMahon  at  Frohsdorf,  he  told  me  that  "  C'est  un  imbecile, 
et  ce  qui  est  pire,  c'est  un  ambitieux,  qui  ne  veut  pas  se 
1'avouer,  et  qui  cherche  a  dissimuler  ce  sentiment  sous  le 
grand  mot  de  son  honneur  "  ("  He  is  an  imbecile,  and  what 
is  worse,  he  has  ambition,  which  he  doesn't  want  to  own, 
and  tries  to  hide  under  those  great  words,  '  his  honour'  "). 

I  don't  think  anyone  ever  made  a  more  scathing  and 
more  true  appreciation  of  the  character  of  the  Marshal  than 
the  last  descendant  of  the  Bourbons  when  he  voiced  that 
judgment. 

Once  the  possibility  of  a  monarchical  restoration  was  put 
aside,  and  especially  after  the  Prince  Imperial  had  fallen  in 
Zululand,  by  which  the  Bonapartists  were  reduced  to  impo- 
tence, it  seemed  as  if  the  Republic  was  to  be  the  only  possible 
government  in  France. 

I  was  in  Paris  when  the  heir  of  the  Napoleons  ended  his 
short  existence  so  gloriously  and  so  tragically,  and  I  do  not 
think  that  I  heard  one  single  person  doubt  that  this  Re- 
publican regime  was  certain  to  last. 

Until  then  great  hopes  had  existed,  even  among  the 
former  enemies  of  the  Empire,  that  the  young  Prince  would 
be  able,  by  one  of  those  freaks  of  political  life  which  occur 
so  often  in  the  existence  of  nations,  to  step  once  more  upon 
the  throne  from  which  his  father  had  been  overthrown.  He 
was  supposed  to  possess  courage,  cleverness,  great  steadfast- 
ness of  character,  strong  principles,  and  an  ardent  love  for 

219 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

his  country.  That  alone  constituted  certain  guarantees  for 
the  future. 

The  Orleanists  knew  very  well  that  until  the  country 
had  altogether  forgotten  the  incident  of  their  claiming  back 
their  confiscated  millions  at  a  moment  when  the  country 
was  smarting  under  the  unparalleled  disaster  of  1870,  they 
had  no  chance  of  being  called  back  to  power.  The  Comte  de 
Chambord  had  made  himself  impossible  ;  the  Republic  was 
acceptable  to  but  very  few  ;  the  Prince  Imperial  had  there- 
fore the  possibility  if  not  the  probability  of  returning  to  France 
as  its  Emperor,  and  this  solution  was  wished  for  even  by  people 
who,  before  the  war  and  the  changes  which  it  had  brought 
about,  would  have  recoiled  with  horror  at  the  idea  of  being 
thought  supporters  of  the  Bonapartes.  But  when  fate  in- 
tervened, and  the  tragedy  which  was  enacted  in  Africa  put 
an  end  to  all  hopes  and  calculations  that  had  been  made, 
it  became  evident  that  the  country  must  resign  itself  to  a 
Republican  government.  And  I  am  persuaded  that  apart 
from  the  ardent  Monarchists,  who  fought  for  a  principle 
more  than  for  a  dynasty,  every  reasonable  person  in  France 
thought  so. 

The  whole  situation  rested  on  the  fact  that  in  the 
opinion  of  many,  the  Republic  ought  to  be  essentially  Con- 
servative, whilst  in  that  of  others,  who  were  gradually  to 
increase  in  number,  its  first  duty  was  to  show  itself  distinctly 
Radical,  and  determined  to  follow  the  glorious  principles, 
as  they  were  qualified,  of  1789. 

The  Due  de  Magenta,  who  found  himself  in  a  certain  sense 
called  upon  to  decide  between  these  two  currents,  did  not 
very  well  know  what  to  do.  His  own  leanings  were  dis- 
tinctly Conservative,  and  he  was  no  admirer  of  the  Radical 
programme,  scarcely  even  of  the  moderate  Republican  one. 
Nevertheless  he  imagined  that  he  could  have  the  necessary 

220 


Fall  of  Marshal  MacMahon 

authority  to  appoint  ministers  of  moderate  views.  There 
were  still  men  of  great  valour  in  their  midst,  like  M.  Buffet 
and  M.  Dufaure,  not  to  speak  of  the  Due  d'Audiffret  Pasquier, 
who  had  made  a  name  for  himself  by  his  famous  speech  against 
Napoleon  III.  in  the  first  National  Assembly,  nor  of  the  Due 
de  Broglie,  to  whose  help  the  Marshal  was  to  have  recourse 
later  on.  There  were  soldiers  like  General  Changarnier  and 
General  Chanzy,  who  had  fought  so  valiantly  whilst  in  command 
of  that  army  of  the  Loire  which  had  made  the  last  effort 
to  free  France  from  the  victorious  Prussians ;  politicians 
like  M.  Ribot,  whose  austerity  and  loyalty  of  principles  have 
never  to  this  day  been  doubted.  There  were  also,  even  in  the 
ranks  of  the  Left,  men  like  Leon  Say,  whose  presence  in  a 
ministry  was  in  itself  a  guarantee  that  it  would  never  yield 
to  the  demands  of  the  extreme  Socialists,  or  like  Gambetta, 
who,  whatever  can  be  said  against  him,  was  a  great  patriot, 
incapable  of  imperilling  the  existence  of  his  country  by  an 
alliance  with  anarchism.  Any  man  blessed  with  the  slightest 
common  sense,  and  possessed  of  frankness  in  his  dealings 
with  his  colleagues,  which  unfortunately  for  him  Marshal 
MacMahon  never  showed,  might  have  consolidated  the  Re- 
public by  making  use  of  these  various  elements.  He  was 
unable  to  do  so,  however,  and  went  on  from  blunder  to  blunder, 
from  concession  to  concession,  reminding  one  of  no  one  so 
much  as  Louis  XVI.,  who  also  accepted  everything  and 
reconciled  himself  to  nothing. 

When  the  vote  of  the  Chamber  had  made  Jules  Simon 
President  of  the  Cabinet,  Marshal  MacMahon  might  easily 
have  found  in  him  an  ally  and  a  supporter  in  his  wish  to 
establish  the  Republic  upon  bases  which  would  have  strength- 
ened the  position  of  France  in  the  eyes  of  Europe. 

Jules  Simon  was  a  man  of  high  principles,  unsullied  honour, 
a  thinker,  a  writer,  a  philosopher,  of  austere  life  and  strong 

221 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

convictions — one  who  was  not  guilty  of  meanness  nor  permitted 
himself  anything  base.  He  was  a  staunch  Republican,  a 
sincere  Liberal,  a  true  follower  of  whatever  was  good  and 
great  in  the  Revolution  of  1789  ;  he  abhorred  excesses  and 
extravagances,  no  matter  in  what  shape  or  under  what  colours 
they  presented  themselves. 

When  he  became  Prime  Minister  he  tried  earnestly 
and  sincerely,  as  his  duty,  to  convert  the  President  of 
the  Republic  to  his  views.  These  he  was  convinced  would 
conciliate  the  different  parties  that  divided  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies,  as  well  as  the  Senate,  and  if  he  had  found  the 
help  he  sought  from  the  Head  of  the  State,  it  is  probable  that 
the  whole  tide  of  events  in  France  would  have  taken  a  different 
turn.  But  that  help  failed  him,  and  after  having  on  the  I5th 
of  May  parted  from  Marshal  MacMahon  on  the  best  of  terms, 
and  received  from  him  the  assurance  that  he  would  do  his 
best  to  co-operate  with  him  in  the  direction  which  he  wanted 
to  give  to  the  government  of  the  country,  Jules  Simon  was 
startled  by  receiving  the  next  morning  the  famous  letter  from 
the  President  of  the  Republic,  refusing  to  lend  himself  to 
his  plans.  He  replied  by  handing  in  his  resignation. 

It  is  to  the  honour  of  Jules  Simon  that  whenever  he  dis- 
cussed the  event  in  later  years  he  always  refused  to  accuse 
the  Due  de  Magenta  of  duplicity,  as  many  in  his  place  would 
have  done.  When  the  electoral  campaign  began,  he,  of  course, 
took  an  important  part  in  it,  but  even  then  his  attitude  in 
regard  to  the  Marshal  was  most  correct,  and  he  never  allowed 
himself  to  say  a  word  that  might  have  been  construed  in 
the  light  of  personal  animosity.  He  was  a  real  philosopher, 
and  a  political  man  to  whom  no  suspicion  had  ever  been 
attached.  In  France  such  are  rare,  and  the  example  he 
gave  must  not  be  forgotten. 

The  Marshal  called  to  his  help  men  belonging  to  the 

222 


Fall  of  Marshal  MacMahon 

Extreme  Right,  such  as  the  Due  de  Broglie  and  M.  de  Fourtoul. 
He  could  hardly  have  done  anything  else,  because  it  is  not 
likely  that  even  a  moderate  Republican  would  have  cared 
to  risk  the  unpopularity  that  was  bound  to  follow  all  those 
who  had  taken  part  in  this  mad  venture.  They  accepted 
office  only  because  they  imagined  that  by  dissolving  the 
Chambers  the  elections  might  give  them  a  majority  which 
would  have  called  back  the  Orleans  to  the  throne  and  restored 
the  Monarchy. 

People  who  knew  the  Due  de  Broglie  well  affirm  that  he 
put  the  condition  quite  clearly  to  the  Due  de  Magenta,  and 
told  him  that  he  would  enter  the  ministry  only  if  he  were 
given  a  free  hand  as  regards  the  future  in  case  the  country 
supported  him  by  sending  his  followers  to  represent  it  in 
the  new  Chamber. 

Whether  this  is  true  or  not  I  have  not  had  the  means  of 
discovering,  but  long  after  the  death  of  Marshal  MacMahon, 
his  widow  one  day  allowed  a  word  to  escape  her  which  might 
have  been  taken  as  a  tacit  acknowledgment  of  the  fact.  She 
was  conversing  with  a  friend  about  the  events  that  had  accom- 
panied and  followed  the  coup  d'etat  of  the  i6th  of  May, 
and  replying  to  a  remark  that  friend  made  to  the  effect  that 
very  probably  had  it  succeeded  the  Due  de  Magenta  would 
have  remained  President  of  the  Republic  until  his  death, 
she  exclaimed  :  "  Oh  no,  my  dear,  the  i6th  of  May,  even  if 
it  had  been  successful,  would  not  have  kept  us  at  the  Elysee." 

Had  MacMahon  possessed  a  scrap  of  dignity  he  would 
have  resigned  after  the  country  had  pronounced  itself  against 
him,  and  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  clung  to  his  place 
after  his  defeat  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  happenings 
in  the  history  of  modern  France.  I  have  often  wondered, 
and  have  not  been  the  only  one  to  do  so,  what  he  had  hoped  to 
gain  by  staying  discredited  and  despised  at  a  post  which 

223 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

could  hardly  have  been  a  bed  of  roses.  Duty  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  It  might  have  been  his  duty  to  listen  to  Jules 
Simon,  at  least  his  constitutional  duty  ;  it  certainly  was  not 
to  his  advantage  that  after  having  ignominiously  failed  in 
carrying  through  his  attempt  to  create  a  Monarchical  Republic, 
he  remained  the  head  of  a  Radical  one. 

Gambetta,  whose  verdict  was  nearly  always  right  and 
just,  when  he  troubled  to  utter  it  seriously  respecting  men 
and  things,  once  defined  the  Marshal,  and  did  so  perhaps 
even  better  than  the  Comte  de  Chambord  had  done.  When 
asked  to  what  motive  he  attributed  his  having  remained 
at  his  post  "  envers  et  contre  tous,"  he  replied  simply  :  "II 
est  reste,  parce  qu'il  n'a  pas  compris  qu'il  devait  s'en  aller  " 
("  He  remained  because  he  did  not  understand  that  he  ought 
to  go"). 

But  when  the  Senatorial  elections  took  place,  and  sent 
to  the  Upper  Chamber  the  same  majority  that  already  existed 
in  the  Lower  Chamber,  even  an  intelligence  as  obtuse  as  that 
of  Marshal  MacMahon  understood  that  he  had  better  leave 
to  others  the  task  of  governing  the  Republic.  He  retired 
much  too  late  for  his  personal  dignity,  and  with  him  the  last 
hopes  of  a  Conservative  Republic  disappeared  for  ever.  After 
some  discussions,  M.  Jules  Grevy  was  elected  his  successor. 
Some  other  names  had  been  put  forward,  amongst  them 
M.  de  Freycinet.  M.  Jules  Ferry  was  also  mentioned,  who 
was  to  go  down  to  posterity  as  the  author,  later,  of  that 
famous  Article  7,  which  was  so  strongly  opposed  by  the  clergy 
and  all  the  parties  in  the  Chamber,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Radical  and  extreme  Republican  parties.  He  was  certainly  a 
statesman  of  broad  views.  Moreover  he  was  honest  and  sincere, 
and  his  personality  was  highly  respected  ;  but  he  did  not  care 
to  become  an  automaton  as  was  desirable  in  a  President  of 
a  constitutional  Republic.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  so  in- 

224 


Fall  of  Marshal  MacMahon 

tensely  disliked  by  all  those  whom  he  had  contrived  to  wound 
by  his  political  attitude  that  he  was  very  soon  eliminated 
from  the  list.  As  for  M.  de  Freycinet,  a  clever,  quiet,  resolute 
individual,  his  opponents  dreaded  his  great  abilities,  and 
perhaps  also  the  subtlety  of  his  reasonings.  He  had  just  enough 
friends  to  praise  and  to  propose  him,  but  not  a  sufficient 
number  to  ensure  his  election.  After  a  few  hours'  discussion 
the  general  choice  fell  on  M.  Jules  Grevy  as  Chief  Magistrate 
of  France.  « 

M.  Grevy  was  an  advocate  of  Besangon,  who  had  signally 
distinguished  himself  by  more  or  less  violent  attacks  against 
the  Empire.  He  was  not  a  brilliant  man,  but  one  gifted  with 
strong  common  sense,  an  orator  of  no  mean  value,  but  whose 
eloquence  was  cold  and  quiet,  like  his  whole  character.  He 
disdained  to  appeal  to  the  passions  of  the  crowd.  He  had 
the  reputation  of  being  an  honest  man  in  the  full  sense  of  the 
word,  one  who  would  never  have  consented  to  any  indelicacy, 
and  who  represented  the  perfect  type  of  the  French  bourgeois 
of  the  time  of  Louis  Philippe,  when  the  lust  for  luxury  and 
the  hunt  after  notoriety  had  not  yet  invaded  public  life. 

When  the  first  National  Assembly  gathered  together  at 
Bordeaux  after  the  war,  he  was  unanimously  elected  Presi- 
dent, and  in  the  delicate  functions  of  that  position  he  showed 
great  dignity,  singular  impartiality,  and  firmness  combined 
with  extreme  politeness.  His  task  was  excessively  difficult, 
and  no  one  did  anything  to  lighten  it,  so  that,  after  an 
incident  of  a  personal  nature  by  which  he  thought  himself 
wounded,  he  sent  in  his  resignation.  It  was  accepted  with 
alacrity  by  the  Right,  which  feared  that  he  would  be  an 
obstacle  to  its  plans  and  intentions,  and  which,  dreaming 
already  of  the  fall  of  M.  Thiers,  was  desirous  of  having  a 
President  after  its  own  heart,  which  it  found  in  M.  Buffet, 
the  irreconcilable  enemy  of  Grevy. 

p  225 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

But  when  Marshal  MacMahon  had  at  last  made  up  his 
mind  to  retire,  and  when  the  various  candidates  had  been 
eliminated  for  one  reason  or  another,  the  name  of  M.  Jules 
Grevy  immediately  met  with  sympathy,  and  he  was  elected 
by  common  consent.  He  made  a  good  chief  of  a  Democratic 
State — dignified,  calm,  gifted  with  tact,  and  animated  by 
the  most  sincere  desire  to  govern  according  to  the  wishes 
of  the  majority  that  had  elected  him.  He  brought  with  him 
to  the  Elysee  the  manners  of  the  bourgeoisie  to  which  he 
belonged,  proved  hostile  to  everything  that  savoured  of 
ostentation  and  luxury,  and  went  on  living  the  same  life  he 
had  led  at  Besan^on,  when,  as  a  young  advocate,  he  had 
had  to  fight  his  way  in  the  world.  Madame  Grevy  was  also 
an  excellent  woman,  a  good  mother  and  an  exemplary  wife, 
who  mended  her  husband's  socks  and  never  attempted  to 
meddle  in  matters  that  did  not  concern  her.  Under  her 
rule  festivities  were  but  rare  at  the  Elysee,  but  charity  was 
practised  on  a  large  scale.  M.  Grevy  did  not  show  himself  the 
nonentity  he  was  later  on  represented  to  be,  and  several  of 
his  ministers,  with  whom  I  had  an  opportunity  of  discussing 
the  President,  told  me  that  his  advice  always  proved  most 
valuable  to  them,  and  that,  whenever  serious  matters  came 
to  the  front,  his  strong  common  sense  and  clear  judgment 
generally  found  the  best  way  to  put  an  end  to  the  difficulties 
which  had  arisen.  He  was  not  a  genius,  but  he  had  states- 
manlike views,  and  these,  more  than  once,  proved  useful 
to  France. 

Unfortunately,  M.  Grevy  survived  himself,  politically 
speaking.  Had  he  retired  at  the  end  of  his  first  seven  years 
he  would  have  been  remembered  with  gratitude  by  his  country 
as  well  as  by  his  family.  But  several  untoward  events  and 
scandals  gave  a  sad  celebrity  to  his  term  of  office. 

One  was  the  affair  of  the  Union  Generate ;  the  first 

226 


Fall  of  Marshal  MacMahon 

and  the  last  attempt  of  French  aristocracy  to  meddle  with 
finance.  Since  that  time  it  has  grown  wiser,  and  has  had 
nothing  more  to  do  with  banks,  except  marrying  bankers' 
daughters.  But  under  the  Presidency  of  M.  Grevy  it  hoped 
to  make  up  for  its  defeat  in  the  field  of  politics  by  securing 
a  great  triumph  in  the  field  of  finance.  In  M.  Bontoux  it 
thought  it  had  found  the  man  capable  of  retrieving  its  fallen 
fortunes,  and  almost  all  the  proudest  names  of  France  co- 
operated in  the  enterprise  which  he  started,  and  which  he 
fondly  hoped  would  rival  the  power  of  the  Rothschilds  and 
of  Jewish  finance  in  general.  For  some  little  time  everything 
went  well,  and  the  shares  of  the  Union  Generale  rose  out  of 
all  proportion.  Then  one  fine  day  the  end  came  suddenly 
and  crushingly,  M.  Bontoux  was  imprisoned,  and  all  the 
numerous  enterprises  of  which  he  had  been  the  promoter 
suffered  disaster. 

Later  on  somehow,  in  other  hands,  the  venture  proved 
prosperous,  and  his  creditors  recovered  something  like  ninety 
per  cent,  of  their  money.  But  at  the  moment  that  the 
catastrophe  occurred  half  France  was  ruined  by  it,  and  as 
of  course  the  Jews  were  accused  of  having  brought  it  about, 
I  think  I  am  not  much  mistaken  in  saying  that  it  is  from  that 
period  that  anti-Semitism  began  to  flourish  in  the  country, 
and  that  people  like  Drumont  became  popular. 

The  crash  of  the  Union  Generale  and  the  Panama  scandal, 
which  began  to  ooze  out  among  the  public,  would  have  been 
enough  to  throw  a  shadow  on  the  Presidency  of  M.  Grevy,  but 
the  drama  which  closed  it  stamped  it  with  a  shame  that  he 
himself  did  not  deserve,  and  which,  whatever  has  been  said 
about  it  by  his  enemies,  he  felt  acutely. 

As  everybody  knows,  Mademoiselle  Grevy,  the  President's 
only  daughter,  had  married  Daniel  Wilson,  the  son  of  a  very 
rich  sugar  refiner,  who  in  the  merry  days  of  the  Empire  had 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

formed  part  of  that  jeunesse  doree,  whom  the  Cafe  Anglais 
still  remembers.  He  had  grown  bald,  and  he  had  become 
poorer  since  those  halcyon  days  ;  but  he  had  a  sister,  Madame 
Pelouze,  the  owner  of  the  lovely  chateau  of  Chenonceaux,  in 
the  valley  of  the  Loire,  who  had  considerable  influence  over 
him,  and  who  imagined  that  by  arranging  a  marriage  between 
him  and  the  daughter  of  the  President  of  the  Republic  he 
would  retrieve  his  fallen  fortunes.  Daniel  Wilson  listened 
to  her,  and  soon  found  himself  installed  at  the  Elysee. 

Once  there,  the  rest  was  easy  for  a  man  of  his  intelligence, 
and  this  is  a  quality  that  his  most  bitter  adversaries  concede 
to  him.  He  soon  acquired  unbounded  influence  on  the  mind 
of  his  father-in-law,  and  M.  Grevy,  grown  old  and  perhaps 
even  lazy,  was  very  glad  to  find  in  his  son-in-law  a  person 
capable  of  helping  him  and  of  bringing  to  his  notice  many 
things  which  he  might  perhaps  have  otherwise  forgotten,  as 
well  as  to  give  him  good  advice  when  he  needed  it.  Very 
soon  M.  Wilson  became  a  political  power,  and  this  brought 
him  many  friends,  even  more  flatterers,  and  a  host  of  demands. 
At  first  he  was  careful,  then  he  grew  bolder,  at  last  he  quite 
forgot  that  he  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  least  indiscretion, 
and  finally,  when  it  became  known  that  he  had  accepted 
monetary  considerations  in  return  for  promotions  in  the 
Order  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  the  scandal  became  so  immense 
that  poor  M.  Grevy,  who  had  known  nothing  at  all  about  it, 
was  peremptorily  asked  to  resign  his  functions  as  Head  of 
the  State. 

To  those  who  read  of  this  now,  the  whole  affair  cannot 
but  appear  strange,  especially  if  they  have  followed  the  course 
of  events  in  France  since  that  day,  and  they  can  but  wonder 
at  the  sensitiveness  of  public  feeling  then.  To-day,  when 
almost  everything  from  the  great  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour 
down  to  a  modest  bureau  de  tabac  is  to  be  had  for  money 

228 


Fall  of  Marshal  MacMahon 

in  France — and  quite  recently  rumour  spreads  to  the  other 
side  of  the  Channel — one  can  only  grieve  for  poor  M.  Grevy 
that  he  had  been  born  too  soon,  and  had  not  become  President 
of  the  Republic  some  fifteen  years  later. 

In  the  scandal  that  accompanied  his  fall  the  real  services 
which  he  had  rendered  to  the  State,  and  his  sincere  attempts 
to  restrain  the  great  development  of  Radicalism  in  the  country, 
were  quite  forgotten.  He  had  been  weak  in  many  things, 
blind  in  some  others,  but  he  had  always  been  honest,  even 
when  his  son-in-law  was  doing  questionable  things  in  his 
name.  And  certainly  at  the  time  of  the  Schnaebele  incident 
it  had  only  been  by  his  intervention  and  his  wisdom  that 
a  war  with  Germany  had  been  avoided.  He  had,  in  that 
dangerous  moment,  shown  both  dignity  and  firmness,  and 
succeeded  in  settling  with  honour  difficulties  which  but  for 
him  might  have  led  to  the  most  serious  consequences.  France, 
when  thinking  of  him  or  talking  about  him,  should  never 
forget  this. 

When  he  resigned,  there  was  again  a  question  raised  as 
to  who  should  be  asked  to  become  his  successor,  and  the  name 
of  Jules  Ferry  was  once  more  put  forward.  But  Jules  Ferry 
was  considered  as  far  too  Conservative  by  the  Paris  Municipal 
Council,  which  sent  delegates  to  the  National  Assembly  to 
warn  it  that,  should  he  be  chosen,  the  population  of  the 
faubourgs  would  come  down  to  Versailles  in  order  to  signify 
its  veto.  To  tell  the  truth,  Ferry's  energy  was  feared,  and  it 
was  dreaded  that  he  would  prove  himself  a  master  rather  than 
a  President.  M.  de  Freycinet  was  out  of  the  question,  when 
suddenly  M.  Carnot's  candidature  was  put  forward  by  M. 
Clemenceau,  who  was  beginning  already  to  assume  the  leader- 
ship of  the  Radical  party,  and  to  make  himself  respected 
by  all  the  others. 

At  that  moment  Sadi  Carnot  was  Minister  of  Finance 

229 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

He  had  quite  recently  been  the  object  of  an  ovation  in  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies  when  he  had  refused  to  exonerate  M. 
Wilson  from  the  payment  of  certain  taxes  which  he  owed 
to  the  State,  and  from  which  he  had  attempted  to  escape, 
thanks  to  his  relationship  with  President  Grevy.  Carnot 
was  the  personification  of  that  caste  which  is  called  in  all 
the  old  memoirs  of  the  eighteenth  century,  "  les  grands  bour- 
geois de  Paris."  His  past  career  had  been  irreproachable; 
he  had  perhaps  few  friends,  not  being  at  all  pliant,  but  he 
had  a  remarkable  absence  of  enemies.  His  personal  appear- 
ance was  grave  and  solemn,  not  to  say  dull ;  he  did  not  speak 
much,  and  his  manners  were  always  cold  and  distant.  He 
made  an  excellent  President,  and  had  he  not  come  to  such 
a  tragic  end,  it  is  probable  that  no  one  would  ever  have  given 
him  a  thought  after  he  had  left  office. 

When  he  was  murdered  the  Radical  party  had  already 
secured  a  very  large  majority  in  the  Chamber  as  well  as  in 
the  Senate,  and  all  thoughts  as  to  the  possibility  of  a  Republic 
governed  according  to  Conservative  principles  had  long  ago 
vanished.  For  a  few  brief  months  his  successor,  Casimir 
Perier,  tried  to  fight  against  the  tide  of  anarchism  which 
was  slowly  rising,  but  after  him  no  one  attempted  it,  and 
the  Republic  fell  entirely  into  the  hands  of  M.  Clemenceau 
and  his  friends. 


230 


CHAPTER    XX 
LEON  GAMBETTA 

WITHOUT  being  an  intimate  friend  of  Leon  Gambetta,  I 
used  nevertheless  to  see  him  very  often,  and  there  existed 
between  us  one  of  those  close  relationships  which  sometimes 
draw  together  people  whose  opinions  are  totally  different 
I  had  first  met  him  before  the  war,  when  he  had  not  reached 
the  fame  which  ultimately  became  his.  I  admired  him  more 
than  I  liked  him,  and  to  tell  the  truth  he  never  was  fully 
in  sympathy  with  me,  but  it  was  impossible  to  see  him  often 
and  not  to  be  struck  by  his  immense  intelligence,  and  especially 
by  the  extraordinary  powers  of  assimilation  which  distin- 
guished him. 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  at  the  beginning  of  his 
political  career  he  had  little  idea  of  social  requirements, 
yet  as  soon  as  he  found  out  his  mistake  he  speedily  made 
it  his  aim  to  acquire  knowledge  of  the  customs  and  manners 
current  in  the  higher  classes  of  society,  and  to  make  a  special 
study  of  its  code  of  etiquette.  He  realised  quite  well  that 
sometimes  trivial  details  bring  about  tremendous  results, 
and  that  if  a  man  wants  to  lead  his  country  he  must  not 
begin  by  giving  the  public  occasion  to  ridicule  him.  Besides, 
there  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  character  of  this  extraordinary 
man  a  thirst  for  luxury,  for  power,  for  riches,  for  all  the  good 
things  of  the  world,  which  alone  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  make  him  study  the  refinements  without  which  they  become 
useless.  Gambetta  was  an  epicure  in  the  fullest  sense  of  that 

231 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

word,  and  the  apparent  carelessness  which  he  had  affected 
in  outward  appearance  when  he  entered  political  life  pro- 
ceeded more  from  the  desire  to  attract  notice  to  himself 
than  from  anything  else. 

He  wanted  to  impose  his  personality  upon  others,  and, 
not  knowing  how  to  do  so,  he  tried  to  attain  it  by  an  apparent 
indifference  to  those  outward  things  that  rule  the  actions  of 
ordinary  men. 

When  once  he  was  thrown  into  contact  with  good  society, 
and  especially  after  he  had  fallen  under  the  influence  of  Madame 
Edmond  Adam,  or  Juliette  Adam  as  earlier  I  referred  to  her, 
his  views  of  life  changed  considerably.  He  very  soon  became 
more  refined  in  his  tastes  and  habits,  the  equal  in  social  deport- 
ment of  those  men  and  women  whose  judgments  and  opinions 
he  had  affected  to  despise  in  the  days  when  he  was  a  street 
orator  who  frequented  the  Cafe  Procope  and  other  meeting- 
places  of  the  young  Radical  party  which  made  it  its  business 
to  attack  the  Empire  at  every  opportunity. 

The  war  sobered  him,  and  his  short  sojourn  in  the  re- 
sponsible position  of  member  of  a  government,  such  as  it 
was,  considerably  changed  his  ideas.  He  at  once  perceived 
that  it  was  easier  to  criticise  men  in  power  than  to  do  their 
work.  He  was  a  great  patriot  in  the  sense  that  he  put  his 
country  before  anything  else  in  the  world,  and  that  he  was 
ready  to  sacrifice  all  that  he  held  dear  for  its  welfare,  but 
he  was  no  chauvinist,  though  so  often  accused  of  fomenting 
chauvinism  in  France.  He  had  a  very  clear  comprehension 
of  every  political  situation,  and  also  of  the  different  ways 
in  which  it  could  be  explained  to  the  crowd,  who  generally 
see  only  the  externals  of  questions  without  ever  going  into 
their  details. 

He  wanted  his  country  to  regain  its  former  power  and 
fame,  and  he  knew  that  this  would  be  difficult  if  the  idea 

232 


Leon  Gambetta 

of  the  humiliation  it  had  endured  was  always  put  before 
its  eyes,  and  if  the  wounds  it  had  received  were  always  made 
to  smart.  In  a  certain  sense  he  was  right,  in  another  he  was 
wrong,  because  France  might  have  been  more  quiet  now, 
and  more  prosperous  even  in  the  material  sense  of  the  word, 
if  that  idea  of  a  revanche  had  not  always  been  fostered,  and 
had  she  been  taught  to  reconcile  herself  to  accomplished  facts. 
In  saying  this  I  know  that  many  among  my  readers  will  scream 
outright,  but  not  being  a  Frenchman  I  may  be  allowed  to 
express  my  opinion,  that  it  would  be  to  the  advantage  of 
a  country  for  which  I  have  always  had  the  greatest  sympathy 
if  she  began  thinking  more  about  herself  and  less  about 
another  war  with  Germany. 

Gambetta  exercised  an  unbounded  influence  on  many 
people,  and  was  the  object  of  hatred  to  many  others, 
but  no  one  who  met  him  could  pass  him  by  with  indifference. 
If  he  had  not  been  of  a  lazy  disposition  he  might  easily  have 
become  Prime  Minister  long  before  he  did,  and  in  this  connec- 
tion I  must  relate  a  story  which  probably  will  surprise  more 
than  one  person.  Gambetta,  though  he  led  his  party,  and 
though  he  was  at  one  moment  the  most  powerful  man  in 
France,  showed  always  some  reluctance  when  the  question 
of  his  forming  a  government  was  raised.  I  ventured  one  day 
to  ask  him  why.  He  replied  to  me  that,  now  he  understood 
the  responsibility  of  the  head  of  a  Cabinet,  and  had  studied 
European  politics,  he  did  not  think  himself  up  to  the  task, 
and  also  did  not  think  that  his  presence  in  a  ministry  would 
be  to  the  advantage  of  France,  because  his  name  had  become 
synonymous  with  the  principle  of  a  war  with  Germany,  for 
which  he  was  but  too  well  aware  that  his  country  was  not 
prepared.  "  Later  on,"  he  added,  "  my  day  may  come, 
but  I  feel  that  now,  though  I  may  have  a  great  deal  more 
intelligence  than  some  of  the  foreign  ministers  who  lead 

233 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  destinies  of  other  countries,  I  haven't  their  experience 
of  affairs,  nor  their  perfect  knowledge  of  saying  pretty  things 
which  they  do  not  mean.  This  would  make  me  appear 
inferior  to  them,  and  France  must  not  be  represented  by  a  man 
to  whom  this  reproach  applies.  France  must  hold  her  own, 
and  something  more,  in  the  presence  of  Europe." 

I  made  a  gesture  of  surprise,  which  he  noticed. 

"  You  are  astonished  at  what  I  tell  you,"  he  remarked, 
"  but  do  you  think  me  such  a  poor  patriot  as  to  put  my  own 
personal  advantage  or  ambitions  before  her  welfare  ?  This 
would  be  very  miserable  indeed,  and  I  know  of  no  meaner 
thing  than  accepting  office  when  one  is  aware  that  it  is  not 
for  the  good  of  one's  fatherland.  I  know  very  well  what 
is  thought  about  me  in  Europe,  and  especially  in  Germany, 
and  I  do  not  wish  to  give  the  latter  country  the  slightest  excuse 
to  say  that  she  has  been  provoked,  or  that  we  are  following 
a  policy  of  aggression.  Such  policy  is  unworthy  of  a  great 
nation,  and  we  are  a  great  nation,  in  spite  of  our  reverses, 
and  we  must  remain  one,  though  some  people  would  like 
us  to  come  down  from  that  height.  We  must  work  to  con- 
solidate our  position,  to  become  powerful  enough  and  strong 
enough  to  be  able  to  strike  when  the  day  comes,  not  only 
with  the  chance,  but  with  the  certitude,  of  success.  What  is 
the  good  of  wasting  one's  time  in  petty  strifes  or  petty  re- 
criminations ?  Yes,  I  think  about  revenge,  I  think  of  nothing 
else,  but  I  should  be  ashamed  to  be  thought  eager  for  it 
at  once,  and  at  any  price  ;  above  all  I  would  not  like  to  risk 
losing  it  by  such  a  miserable  circumstance  as  my  becoming 
head  of  the  government  at  a  time  when  the  hour  for  it  had 
not  yet  struck." 

I  relate  this  conversation  in  its  entirety  as  it  shows  the 
real  patriotism  which  animated  Gambetta,  as  well  as  his 
great  foresight  and  intuition  in  politics  in  general.  Very 

234 


Leon  Gambetta 

few  statesmen  would  have  viewed  a  situation  with  such 
entire  self-abnegation.  In  France  especially,  where  the  thirst 
after  power  and  official  positions  was  so  great,  he  con- 
stituted a  solitary  and  noble  exception.  I  think  that  the 
happiest  time  in  Gambetta's  life  was  when  he  was  President 
of  the  Chamber,  and  inhabited  the  Palais  Bourbon.  There 
he  felt  in  his  element,  and  also  at  the  height,  not  of  his  am- 
bitions, but  of  his  wishes — a  totally  different  matter.  In 
the  old  home  of  the  Due  de  Morny  he  did  not  consider  himself 
inferior  to  that  clever  councillor  of  Napoleon  III.,  and  reflected 
with  some  satisfaction  on  the  circumstances  that  had  brought 
him  there,  and  placed  him  in  the  chair  occupied  with  such 
authority  by  the  illegitimate  son  of  Queen  Hortense.  In 
his  new  position  also  he  could  give  way  to  the  luxurious 
tastes  which  he  had  always  nursed,  and  only  appeared  to 
scorn  because  he  had  not  been  able  to  believe  he  would  ever 
be  in  a  position  to  gratify  them. 

Leon  Gambetta  also  felt  that  in  the  capacity  of  leader 
of  the  representatives  of  the  nation  he  would  have  more 
opportunities  of  learning  the  real  wants  of  that  nation,  and 
thus,  when  the  day  came  that  he  could  do  so,  would  be  able 
to  work  for  its  welfare  with  better  chances  of  success  than 
he  had  had  hitherto.  His  rare  tact  served  him  well,  and  his 
knowledge  of  mankind,  something  quite  different  from  know- 
ledge of  the  world,  made  him  avoid  many  of  the  mistakes 
another  placed  in  his  position  would  inevitably  have  fallen 
victim  to.  He  made  an  excellent  President  of  the  Chamber, 
just  as  he  made  an  admirable  host  in  the  Palais  Bourbon, 
where  he  displayed  his  epicurean  tastes  in  a  way  that  drew 
upon  him  the  censure  of  the  newspapers,  which  tried  to 
ridicule  the  former  Socialist  leader,  whose  first  care  had  been 
to  get  as  his  cook  the  most  famous  chef  in  Paris. 

Madame  Adam  used  sometimes  to  smile  at  the  change 

235 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

which  her  influence,  more  than  anything  else,  had  brought 
about  in  Gambetta.  But  when  he  became  President  of  the 
Chamber  their  intimacy  slackened,  for  a  very  short  time 
it  is  true,  but  slackened  all  the  same.  Gambetta,  it  must 
be  owned,  was  very  sensible  to  feminine^  charms  and  feminine 
blandishments.  Strange  as  it  may  seerri  when  one  takes  into 
consideration  his  extreme  ugliness,  the  fact  that  he  had  but 
one  eye,  and  was  enormously  fat,  he  yet  exercised  a  great 
fascination  on  women  in  general,  and  he  liked  to  use  it,  and 
to  spend  part  of  his  spare  time  in  the  society  of  the  fair  ladies 
who  worshipped  at  his  shrine.  This  partly  was  the  cause  of 
his  death.  But  about  this  we  shall  speak  later  on. 

When  at  last  circumstances  arose  which  obliged  Gambetta 
to  accept  the  task  of  forming  a  Cabinet,  it  was  with  the  utmost 
reluctance,  in  spite  of  all  that  has  been  said  concerning  this 
subject,  that  he  undertook  it.  He  had  no  faith  in  the 
possibility  of  being  a  long  time  at  the  head  of  affairs,  and  as 
he  remarked  to  one  of  his  friends  :  "  Why  take  such  trouble 
when  one  is  assured  beforehand  it  is  for  nothing  ?  "  Never- 
theless he  started  earnestly  to  work  to  give  to  the  government 
the  direction  he  thought  the  best  for  the  interests  of  the 
country.  But  the  composition  of  the  Chambers  was  not  con- 
genial to  him  ;  he  felt  himself  far  superior  to  all  those  men 
upon  the  vote  of  whom  his  fate  depended,  and  this  made  him 
impatient  as  to  the  control  which  they  pretended  to  exercise 
over  him.  He  despised  them,  if  the  truth  must  be  said,  and 
involuntarily  he  allowed  this  feeling  to  appear  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  handled  them,  a  fact  that  had  much  to  do  with 
the  short  time  he  remained  in  power. 

His  advent  as  Prime  Minister  had  excited  considerable 
sensation  abroad ;  even  in  France  it  was  the  signal  for  the 
retirement  from  public  life  of  many  people  who  felt  that  they 
could  not  remain  in  office  under  such  a  thoroughly  Radical 

236 


Leon  Gambetta 

government  as  the  one  he  was  supposed  to  lead.  Among  those 
who  resigned  was  the  Comte  de  St.  Vallier,  at  that  time  French 
Ambassador  in  Berlin. 

When  his  resignation  was  accepted  he  thought  himself 
obliged,  nevertheless,  to  call  on  the  Prime  Minister  when 
he  returned  to  Paris,  in  order  to  express  to  him  his  regrets 
that  the  opinions  which  he  held  prevented  him  from 
working  harmoniously  with  him.  Gambetta  received  him  with 
great  affability  and  courteousness,  and  at  once  said :  "  You 
are  wrong  to  go  away;  I  shall  not  remain  for  long  where 
I  am  now,  and  you  would  have  rendered  a  greater  service 
to  France  by  remaining  at  your  post  than  by  a  retreat  which, 
as  you  will  see,  will  prove  to  have  been  useless.  Je  ne  suis  qu'un 
bouche-trou  ('  I  am  only  a  stop-gap '),  and  very  probably  the 
President  of  the  Republic  in  entrusting  to  me  the  task  of 
forming  a  government  wanted  to  prove  to  France  how  im- 
possible it  is  for  a  Radical  ministry  ever  to  maintain  itself. 
The  sad  part  of  this  is  that,  though  I  am  a  Republican,  I 
have  no  Radical  sympathies.  I  assure  you  that  this  is  the 
fact,  and  that  you  would  have  found  me  far  more  inclined  to 
sympathise  with  your  opinions  than  with  those  of  the  people 
who  are  supposed  to  be  my  followers.  The  great  mistake 
that  we  are  constantly  making  in  France  is  to  mix  up  opinions 
with  the  way  in  which  the  country  must  be  governed.  We 
ought  to  have  neither  a  Conservative,  nor  a  Radical,  nor  even 
a  Republican  government ;  we  ought  to  have  a  French  one. 
This  would  be  quite  enough.  I  am  sorry  you  have  resigned ; 
very  sorry,  indeed." 

But  Gambetta  did  not  convince  M.  de  St.  Vallier,  and 
he  insisted  on  retiring  from  the  diplomatic  service,  a  fact 
which  I  have  reasons  to  believe  he  regretted  later  on. 

The  great  dream  of  Gambetta  was  to  establish  a  modus 
vivendi  and  a  kind  of  understanding  with  Germany.  He 

237 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

knew  very  well  how  useless  it  is  in  life  to  go  back  on  things 
which  are  already  accomplished,  and  to  cry  over  spilt  milk. 
And  he  did  not  care  for  France  to  go  on  living  in  the  state 
of  qui  vive  which  had  been  hers  ever  since  the  disasters  which 
had  accompanied  the  war  of  1870.  He  knew  also  that  he 
had  far  greater  chances  to  take  into  his  hands  the  reins  of 
government,  and  to  keep  them,  if  once  he  had  succeeded 
in  doing  away  with  this  fear  of  a  German  aggression  which 
haunted  the  public  mind.  He  was  no  partisan  of  compulsory 
service,  and  did  not  approve  of  too  great  military  expenses, 
entered  into  by  fear  of  an  imaginary  danger.  That  it  was 
imaginary  he  was  convinced,  because  he  knew  very  well  that 
Germany  was  in  the  same  position  in  which  Napoleon  III. 
had  found  himself:  that  of  risking  the  loss  of  everything 
and  gaining  nothing  from  a  new  campaign.  But  this  convic- 
tion which  was  his  alone  he  could  not  persuade  others  to 
share,  and  for  this  reason  he  tried  to  arrange  an  interview 
between  himself  and  Prince  von  Bismarck. 

A  great  deal  has  been  written  about  this  episode,  and 
several  of  Gambetta's  friends  have  done  their  best  to  try  to 
induce  the  public  to  forget  it.  I  don't  know  why  they  believed 
that  it  was  not  to  his  honour.  Nor  why,  either,  Gambetta 
could  not  have  met  the  German  Chancellor,  when  other 
French  political  men  had  done  so  without  anyone  saying  a 
single  word  against  it.  By  every  sensible  person  the  idea 
of  this  interview  could  only  have  been  hailed  with  pleasure. 
Two  great  minds  like  those  could  not  but  have  found  together 
the  solution  of  many  difficulties  which  divided  the  two  nations, 
and  it  would  have  been  doing  the  greatest  injustice  to  Leon 
Gambetta  to  imagine  that  he  would  not  have  borne  himself 
with  the  dignity  necessary  to  the  representative  of  a  great 
country. 

It  was  Count  Henckel  von  Donnersmarck,  the  husband 

238 


Leon  Gambetta 

of  Madame  de  Paiva,  whose  fame  still  lives  in  Paris,  who  was 
sounded  by  Gambetta  as  to  the  possibility  of  a  meeting  between 
himself  and  Bismarck,  and  he  did  his  very  best  to  arrange  it 
in  such  a  manner  that  it  might  not  become  known  to  the  public, 
at  least  not  until  after  it  had  actually  taken  place.  Unfortu- 
nately outward  circumstances  interfered  with  this  plan,  and 
Gambetta  had  to  forgo  his  intention,  partly  because  his  great 
friend  Ranc  told  him  that  if  he  ventured  on  such  a  thing 
he  would  entirely  lose  the  confidence  of  the  Radical  party. 
Whether  it  was  this  consideration  or  another  one,  the  fact 
remains  that  he  felt  afraid  at  the  last  minute,  in  view  of  the 
hostility  of  his  constituents,  to  incur  the  responsibility  of  a 
step  which  his  intelligence  and  his  intuition  told  him  was 
the  best  for  the  interests  of  the  France  he  loved  so  dearly. 

Much  has  been  written,  and  much  surmised,  concerning 
the  death  of  Gambetta.  It  is  now  pretty  certain  that  the 
wound  which  he  received  was  not  its  immediate  cause,  which 
must  be  looked  for  elsewhere,  and  can  be  attributed  partly 
to  his  general  constitution,  which  was  considerably  impaired, 
and  partly  to  the  treatment  which  had  been  applied  to  him. 
But  upon  this  point  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  at  that 
time  operations  were  not  the  usual  thing  that  they  have  be- 
come since,  and  surgical  intervention  was  generally  dreaded, 
and  resorted  to  only  as  a  last  resource. 

As  to  the  pistol  shot,  about  which  so  many  suppositions 
have  been  made,  I  think  that  in  spite  of  Gambetta's  own  denials 
there  can  be  hardly  a  matter  of  doubt  that  it  was  a  lady 
who,  in  a  fit  of  fury,  had  inflicted  the  wound  that  disabled 
him.  It  is  no  secret  now,  that  Gambetta  was  on  the  point  of 
marrying  a  lady  of  high  social  standing,  the  Marchioness 
Arconati-Visconti,  the  daughter  of  the  Senator  Peyrat,  and 
the  widow  of  a  Milanese  nobleman.  That  union  was  to  put 
the  seal  to  his  career,  and  to  open  for  him  many  new  vistas. 

239 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

As  the  husband  of  a  beautiful,  accomplished  woman  of  the 
world,  he  could  in  time  aspire  to  anything  and,  who  knows, 
become  President  of  the  Republic  for  life,  which  was  his  dearest 
secret  wish. 

But  in  order  to  accomplish  his  desire,  he  had  first  to 
end  a  situation  that  did  not  date  from  yesterday,  to  cut 
off  an  intimacy  of  twenty  years  with  a  noble  woman  who  had 
been  his  friend  in  the  bad  as  well  as  in  the  good  days,  and 
who  had  given  him  innumerable  proofs  of  her  devotion. 
Gambetta  was  well  aware  of  the  difficulties  which  such  a  step 
presented,  and  for  a  long  time  he  had  not  the  courage  to 
tackle  the  subject,  hoping  that  she  would  hear  something  about 
his  new  plans,  and  herself  begin  the  conversation  on  this 
delicate  matter.  The  lady,  however,  kept  silent,  perhaps 
because  she  did  not  believe  in  the  rumours  which  had  reached 
her,  and  partly  because  she  would  not  give  her  friend  the 
opportunity  he  was  seeking.  At  last  Gambetta  asked  his 
old  comrade  Spuller  to  see  her  and  try  to  persuade  her 
to  have  the  courage  to  sacrifice  herself  to  his  welfare.  He 
reasoned  like  a  man,  and  an  ungrateful  man  into  the  bargain, 
and  she  refused  to  accept  the  solution  which  was  offered 
to  her,  and  which  might  have  soothed  the  pride  of  a  person 
more  devoid  of  feelings  of  attachment  for  her  lover  of  long 
years  than  was  the  case  with  her.  She  dismissed  Spuller 
with  scorn,  and  rushed  to  Ville  d'Avray,  where  Gambetta 
was  residing,  in  order  to  seek  an  interview  that  could  only 
be  a  stormy  one. 

It  was  during  this  interview  that  Gambetta  was  wounded. 
And  those  who  were  made  aware  of  all  the  circumstances 
attending  this  drama  of  feminine  jealousy,  knew  who  it  was 
that  fired  the  fatal  shot  which  lodged  itself  in  the  right  hand 
of  the  French  statesman.  When  he  himself  was  questioned 
as  to  the  accident,  he  always  said  that  he  had  wounded  himself 

240 


Leon  Gambetta 

in  trying  to  clean  a  revolver,  a  circumstance  that  was  the 
more  unlikely  because  he  was  seldom  in  possession  of  such  a 
weapon.  Moreover,  to  some  of  his  friends,  like  Spuller  and 
Paul  Bert,  he  only  remarked  that  he  had  got  nothing  but 
what  he  had  deserved. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  consciousness  which  made  him  so  patient 
during  his  illness,  and  also  so  shy  of  seeing  anyone,  even  his 
friends,  whilst  it  lasted.  He  used  to  lie  quietly,  with  closed 
eyes,  and  avoid  any  conversations  that  could  have  touched 
upon  the  subject  of  the  accident  which  had  occurred  to  him. 
And  when  later  on  other  symptoms  made  their  appearance, 
he  begged  the  people  who  surrounded  him  to  say  everywhere 
that  these  symptoms  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  wound. 

If,  in  his  dying  moments,  he  was  conscious,  he  must 
have  regretted  deeply  his  ingratitude  in  regard  to  the 
woman  who  had  loved  him  with  such  true  affection,  and 
who  had  been  tempted  to  an  act  of  despair  when  she 
learned  that  she  was  about  to  be  forsaken  for  one  who 
certainly  did  not  have  for  Gambetta  the  same  passionate 
affection.  It  was  after  all  the  sweet  lady  who  had  for  so  long 
had  him  in  her  affections  who  watched  over  his  deathbed, 
and  who  closed  his  eyes  for  ever,  whilst  the  proud  lady  for 
whose  sake  he  had  been  about  to  sacrifice  her  never  even 
made  an  appearance  at  Ville  d'Avray.  She  went  on  living 
her  former  life  as  if  no  tragedy  had  crossed  it,  after  death 
had  removed  from  this  worldly  scene  the  great  politician  to 
whom  ambition  had  very  nearly  united  her. 

And  now  that  years  have  passed  over  this  drama, 
since  the  removal  from  the  scene  of  political  France  of  the 
great  patriot  who  was  called  Leon  Gambetta,  it  is  still  very 
difficult  to  form  a  true  judgment  about  him.  He  died  before 
he  had  given  the  full  measure  of  his  qualities,  or  shown  the 
real  stuff  he  was  made  of.  He  was  for  too  short  a  time  in 

Q  241 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

a  responsible  position  to  allow  us  to  say  whether  he  would 
have  proved  as  able  a  leader  of  a  government  as  he  had  shown 
himself  to  be  a  powerful  leader  of  men.  The  two  things  are 
very  different,  and  the  man  who  can  master  one  is  found 
sometimes  to  be  lacking  in  the  other.  What,  however,  cannot 
be  taken  away  from  him  is  his  true,  earnest  patriotism,  the 
absence  of  all  vanity  that  distinguished  him,  his  readiness 
to  sacrifice  everything  in  his  power  at  the  shrine  of  his  father- 
land, and  his  desire  to  serve  it,  according  to  what  he  considered 
to  be  its  interests.  He  was  fearless  in  his  devotion,  and 
worked  for  his  country  without  paying  any  attention  to  the 
reproaches  of  the  crowd. 

The  man  was  colossal  in  his  way,  and  there  was  nothing 
mean  about  him.  His  conceptions  were  as  great  as  his  soul. 
Of  course  he  was  often  mistaken,  like  every  human  being, 
but  he  was  always  sincere  even  in  his  errors,  and  he  never 
hesitated  to  acknowledge  the  latter  when  they  were  shown  to 
him. 

Reared  in  different  circumstances,  and  able  to  show  his 
value  otherwise  than  by  starting  on  the  road  of  revolution, 
which  bordered  very  closely  on  anarchy,  he  might  have 
become  truly  a  great  man.  He  had  all  the  instincts  of  one — 
and  all  the  imperfections.  He  was  authoritative  and  could 
be  very  firm,  but  he  tried  always  to  be  just,  and  avoided 
wounding  others,  even  his  adversaries,  as  much  as  it  was 
possible  for  him  to  do  so.  He  was  invariably  courteous,  even 
in  his  exhibitions  of  rage,  and  essentially  kind,  a  faithful 
friend,  and  a  gallant  enemy.  Hated  by  those  who  had  never 
known  him,  or  met  him  personally,  he  contrived  to  fascinate 
all  those  who  had  done  so  ;  they  always  went  away  from 
him  liking  the  man,  even  when  condemning  the  politician. 
He  had  a  careless  manner  in  talking  about  his  foes,  which 
was  superb  in  its  way,  and  though  he  seldom  spoke  about 

242 


Leon  Gambetta 

himself,  yet  he  liked  to  find  that  he  was  respected,  feared, 
or  even  abused. 

The  one  thing  he  never  could  have  reconciled  himself 
to  would  have  been  to  be  ignored,  and  this  indignity  was 
spared  him.  Perhaps  it  was  better  for  his  memory  that  he 
died  in  the  full  force  of  his  talent,  and  before  he  had  reached 
the  maturity  of  his  years — perhaps  it  was  a  pity.  Who 
knows  ? 


243 


CHAPTER   XXI 
THE  ADVENTURE  OF  GENERAL  BOULANGER 

ONE  of  the  most  curious  episodes  in  the  life  of  the  Third 
Republic  was  certainly  the  adventure  of  General  Boulanger, 
with  all  its  attendant  circumstances,  many  of  which  have 
not  yet  seen  the  light  of  day.  It  illustrates  the  taste  of  the 
Frenchman  for  what  is  vulgarly  called,  in  the  argot  of  the 
boulevards,  "  le  panache." 

The  "  Brave  General,"  to  give  him  the  name  used  in  the 
romances  sung  by  Paulus,  was  anything  but  a  superior  being. 
I  doubt  if  he  was  a  strikingly  intelligent  one.  He  had  neither 
the  qualities  nor  the  aptitudes  which  constitute  a  hero.  He 
never  understood  his  own  power,  nor  realised  the  influence 
which,  at  a  certain  moment,  he  wielded  over  the  masses  ; 
he  was  almost  without  ambition  ;  he  seldom  knew  what  was 
required  of  him  ;  and  no  one  was  more  surprised  than  himself 
when  suddenly  he  found  that  he  had  become  the  most  popular 
man  in  all  France. 

His  rise  as  well  as  his  fall  prove  very  forcibly  that  the 
time  is  past,  and  past  for  ever,  when  adventurers,  by  the 
glamour  which  they  exercise  over  the  crowd,  can  become 
masters  as  well  as  leaders. 

To  those  who  were  in  Paris  at  that  period,  it  is  more  than 
difficult  to  account  for  the  sudden  blossoming  of  this  very 
inferior  plant  in  the  garden  of  French  political  life,  whilst 
those  who  have  never  lived  in  the  French  capital  will  utterly 
fail  to  realise  the  circumstances  that  brought  it  into  evidence. 

244 


Adventure  of  General  Boulanger 

The  fact  is  that  Boulangism  was  the  product  of  the  private 
ambitions  of  a  considerable  number  of  people  who,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  had  nothing  to  do  with  each  other,  and  who 
did  not  work  together  to  ensure  triumph.  On  the  other  hand, 
each  individual  directed  his  effort  to  securing  for  himself 
alone  all  the  benefit  arising  from  the  movement,  and  in  this 
General  Boulanger  played  no  part  at  all,  though  he  appeared 
to  be  the  leading  spirit  of  the  whole  intrigue  associated  with 
his  name. 

The  rise  into  popularity  of  General  Boulanger  took  place 
some  little  time  after  the  election  of  M.  Sadi  Carnot  to  the 
Presidency  of  the  Republic.  Carnot  was  a  perfect  type  of 
the  bourgeoisie  of  Paris  of  the  olden  days — always  cool  and 
methodical,  severe  in  his  principles,  strong  in  his  convictions, 
rather  narrow-minded  in  his  views ;  an  austere  figure,  the 
embodiment  of  honesty,  self-respect  personified.  His  very 
possessions  he  looked  upon  merely  as  a  means  for  commanding 
an  added  respect,  and  throughout  his  life  he  was  also  a  strict 
observer  of  the  law.  To  these  sterling  qualities,  however, 
he  added  nothing  that  appealed  to  the  hearts  of  his  country- 
men. He  did  not  excite  public  enthusiasm,  and  scarcely 
succeeded  in  winning  for  himself  public  sympathies.  He 
was  too  correct,  and  perhaps  this  extreme  observance  of  his 
duties,  whether  political,  social,  or  private,  interfered  with 
his  popularity  ;  nations,  as  well  as  individuals,  do  not  care 
to  be  always  confronted  by  perfection  ;  they  are  apt  to  think 
it  rather  dull. 

Under  such  circumstances  it  is  little  wonder  that  people 
began  to  look  beyond  the  President  of  the  Republic  for  the 
hero  which  they  had  yearned  after  ever  since  the  disasters  of 
the  Franco-German  War  had  awakened  in  them  the  desire 
for  revenge  on  the  victors.  Further,  there  were  certain 
ambitious  politicians  who  wanted  to  come  into  the  limelight, 

245 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  who  felt  that  the  steady  determination  of  M.  Carnot 
to  govern  according  to  strictly  constitutional  principles  left 
no  room  for  them  or  for  their  plans. 

The  Republic,  at  that  distant  time  of  which  I  am  writing, 
was  not  yet  established  so  firmly  in  the  heart  of  the  people 
that  its  overthrow  could  not  be  admitted  within  the  range  of 
possibilities.  Is  it  therefore  to  be  wondered  that  those  who 
longed  for  change  should  have  looked  around  them  for  the 
man  strong  enough  to  lead  such  an  adventure  ? 

Boulanger,  beyond  looking  well  on  his  black  horse,  had 
but  little  to  recommend  him  as  a  possible  destroyer  of  the 
Republic.  Still,  he  was  a  general,  a  position  which  has  always 
possessed  great  prestige  in  the  eyes  of  a  certain  section  of 
French  society.  He  was  not  shrewd  enough  to  observe 
where  his  so-called  friends  were  trying  to  lead  him.  As  a 
consequence  he  allowed  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  the 
tide  that  at  last  threw  him  against  the  rocks  of  Jersey,  where 
his  political  career  ended  even  before  his  life  came  to  a  sudden 
close  in  the  little  churchyard  of  Uxelles,  near  Brussels. 

There  is  no  denying  that  Boulangism  was  engineered 
by  the  Royalist  party  on  the  one  side,  and  by  some  enter- 
prising journalists  on  the  other.  Either  of  these  two  circum- 
stances would  have  been  enough  in  itself  ultimately  to  wreck 
the  cause,  but  at  the  beginning  it  appeared  in  the  light  of  a 
movement  which  appealed  so  well  to  the  sympathies  and  to 
the  feelings  of  the  whole  nation  that  it  seemed  even  more 
formidable  from  a  distance  than  when  in  its  midst. 

Everything  conspired  to  transform  it  into  a  vast  con- 
spiracy. When,  after  the  fall  of  the  Goblet  ministry,  in  which 
he  held  the  portfolio  of  the  War  Office,  Boulanger  found  himself 
obliged  to  retire  from  political  life,  and  was  transferred  to 
the  command  of  an  army  corps  at  Clermont  Ferrand,  he  could 
not  reconcile  himself  to  his  exile,  but  used  to  come  back 

246 


Photo:  Gerschel,  Paris. 

CAPTAIN   DREYFUS 


Photo :  Petit,   Paris. 
GENERAL   BOULANGER 


Photo:  Gerschel,  Paris. 

EMILE  ZOLA 


Photo  :  Gerschel,  Paris. 
M.   DE  LESSEPS 


Adventure  of  General  Boulanger 

secretly  and  disguised  to  Paris,  to  see  Madame  de  Bonnemains, 
who  had  sacrificed  for  him  her  social  position  in  a  most  select 
circle  of  Parisian  society.  Once  or  twice  people  met  him 
in  disguise,  and  recognised  him,  in  spite  of  a  pair  of  blue 
spectacles  behind  which  he  fondly  hoped  he  would  remain 
unknown.  Thereupon  he  was  immediately  invested  with 
mystery  and  romance  by  those  who  hoped  to  find  in  him  a 
docile  instrument  to  further  their  personal  ambitions ;  and 
so,  in  order  to  compel  those  in  power  to  deprive  him  of  his 
command,  he  was  accused  of  conspiring  against  the  safety 
of  the  Republic.  Thus,  by  restoring  him  to  private  life,  he 
had  thrust  upon  him  by  these  intriguers  the  opportunity  to 
aspire  to  the  supreme  functions  of  Head  of  the  State. 

For  some  time  even  staunch  Republicans  looked  at  him 
with  dread.  The  next  step  was  taken  by  an  unknown  journalist, 
who  came  forth  suddenly  as  the  apostle  of  this  new  messiah, 
and  who  conceived  the  idea  of  distributing,  in  several  depart- 
ments, bulletins  of  votes  bearing  the  name  of  General  Boulanger. 

In  a  few  days,  therefore,  France  heard  with  amazement 
that  a  multitude  of  voters  had  expressed  their  willingness 
to  send  Boulanger  as  a  deputy  to  the  Chamber,  a  thing 
undreamt  of  but  for  M.  George  Thiebaud's  adventurous 
experiment.  It  was  M.  Thiebaud  who  had  created  Bou- 
langism.  He  was  not  the  only  factor  in  fostering  the  move- 
ment. Another  journalist,  one  who  was  well  known  on  the 
boulevards,  M.  Arthur  Meyer,  the  proprietor  of  the  Gaulois, 
Count  Dillon,  and  the  private  secretary  of  the  Comte  de 
Paris,  the  Marquis  de  Beauvoir — all  played  a  part.  All  three 
were  men  of  no  mean  intelligence,  who  saw  possibilities  in 
this  man  to  whom  the  attention  of  France  had  been  attracted 
for  bringing  back  to  the  throne  of  their  ancestors  those  Orleans 
Princes  who  had  failed  to  secure  for  themselves  the  help  of 
Marshal  MacMahon  during  the  time  he  reigned  at  the  Elysee. 

247 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

These  three  men  were  credited,  in  the  estimation  of 
those  behind  the  scenes,  with  starting  this  extraordinary 
adventure  which  ended  so  piteously  for  its  principal  character. 
They  furthermore  drew  into  the  enterprise  three  other  strong 
elements — Henri  Rochefort,  Count  Albert  de  Mun,  and  the 
Duchesse  d'Uzes,  while  through  their  influence  also  became 
champions,  though  in  lesser  degree,  such  men  as  Paul  Deroul6de 
and  George  Laguerre — an  advocate  of  great  talent,  who  never- 
theless is  forgotten  to-day — and  Lucien  Millevoye,  who  was 
given  charge  of  one  of  the  most  important  missions  that  those 
who  played  with  the  name  of  Boulanger  ever  entrusted  to 
their  adherents. 

Strange  to  say,  each  one  of  these  persons,  down  to  Madame 
Adam,  who,  almost  unknown  to  herself,  was  also  drawn  into 
the  many  dark  intrigues  to  which  Boulangism  gave  rise, 
worked  for  a  different  aim.  The  Duchess  d'Uzes,  when  asked 
to  contribute  financially  to  the  success  of  the  enterprise,  was 
actuated  by  the  secret  desire  to  become  the  Egeria  of  the  new 
hero  whose  star  was  rising  in  the  firmament  of  her  country's 
existence,  and  to  rule  that  country  under  his  name.  Albert 
de  Mun  thought  only  of  the  restoration  of  the  Monarchy. 
The  Marquis  de  Beauvoir  saw  himself  so  firmly  established 
in  the  confidence  of  the  Comte  de  Paris  that  the  latter  would 
feel  himself  in  honour  bound  to  stand  by  him  whenever  one 
of  those  financial  catastrophes,  which  were  periodical  events 
with  him,  should  once  again  occur.  Henri  Rochefort  was 
actuated  by  his  everlasting  mania  of  opposing  every  existing 
government,  a  mania  to  which  he  owed  his  success  as  a  journalist 
and  as  a  politician,  and  to  which  he  would  only  have  given 
way  with  more  virulence  than  before  had  some  freak  of  fortune 
really  brought  to  the  pinnacle  Boulanger  and  his  black  horse. 
Arthur  Meyer  saw  in  the  emprise  the  opportunity  to  present 
himself  before  the  world  as  the  statesman  he  firmly  believed 

248 


Adventure  of  General  Boulanger 

himself  to  be.  Others,  such  as  Deroul&le,  imagined  that 
the  General  would  conquer  at  the  point  of  his  sword  those 
provinces  which  had  been  snatched  from  France ;  or  Laguerre, 
who  hoped  for  a  substantial  financial  reward,  and  Millevoye, 
who  aspired  to  become  the  Prime  Minister  of  a  President  of 
Republic  after  his  own  heart — all  these  men  worked  with 
the  same  tools  for  different  purposes.  They  were  interested 
in  the  cause  they  were  supporting,  but  they  did  not  believe 
in  it  otherwise  than  as  a  means  to  an  end. 

Whether  they  would  have  gone  on  fighting  under  the 
same  flag  had  that  cause  triumphed  is  another  question. 
Very  probably  not ;  but  while  the  struggle  lasted,  they  threw 
themselves  into  it  with  all  the  faculties  for  good  or  for  evil 
with  which  nature  had  endowed  them.  And  when  the  battle 
was  lost,  the  disillusion  was  equally  bitter  for  each  of  them, 

Any  attempt  to  analyse  the  different  phases  through 
which  Boulangism  had  to  pass  can  only  result  in  wonder  that 
it  could  have  maintained  its  popularity  for  such  a  relatively 
considerable  time,  and  also  that  it  aroused  the  serious  appre- 
hensions which  permeated  the  ranks  of  the  Republican  sup- 
porters of  the  government.  The  party  had  no  leader  except 
the  irresolute  General  whom  it  had  adopted. 

Madame  d'Uzes,  who  was  in  possession  of  a  considerable 
fortune  through  her  mother,  was  a  woman  who  had  never 
been  handsome.  She  was  intelligent,  like  all  the  Mortemart 
family  to  which  she  belonged,  ambitious,  rather  tyrannical 
in  character,  and  violent  in  her  temper  when  she  was  opposed 
or  annoyed.  She  had  been  left  a  widow  while  still  young, 
and  enjoyed  a  foremost  position  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain 
owing  to  her  great  name  and  immense  riches.  One  of  her 
daughters  had  married  the  Due  de  Brissac,  the  second  one 
was  the  Duchesse  de  Luynes.  She  was  allied  to  the  bluest 
blood  of  France,  and  had  Court  precedence  been  in  vogue, 

249 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

she  would  have  held  first  rank.  She  had  nothing  to  gain 
and  everything  to  lose  by  throwing  herself  into  the  arms 
of  the  "  Brave  General,"  and  the  cause  which  led  her  to  join 
the  ranks  of  Boulangism  must  have  been  that  she  had  imagined 
that  when  once  the  "  King  "  had  entered  again  into  his  in- 
heritance, the  part  she  had  played  in  that  restoration  would 
win  for  her  a  foremost  place  in  his  confidence,  would  ensure 
for  her  an  exclusive  position  among  the  ranks  of  his  advisers. 
Then,  too,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  like  so  many  women 
before  her,  she  had  also  been  fascinated  by  the  personal 
charm  of  Boulanger,  and  when  in  his  presence  her  heart,  old 
though  it  was  already,  would  beat  just  a  little  faster  than 
usual.  Her  desire  to  rescue  her  idol  from  the  fascinations  of 
the  woman  who  held  him  tied  to  her  apron  strings  may  also 
have  had  something  to  do  with  the  facility  with  which  she 
opened  her  purse  to  him  as  well  as  the  doors  of  her  house. 

Not  only  did  she  become  his  friend,  but  also  the  confidante 
of  his  ambitions ;  of  his  deceptions ;  of  his  ever-increasing 
bitterness  at  the  daily  insults  and  the  calumnies  which  were 
showered  upon  him  by  some  of  his  former  friends  who  accused 
him  of  treason  against  their  party ;  of  his  doubts  concerning 
the  so-called  virtues  of  the  Republicans  as  well  as  of  the 
Republic  itself.  She  used  to  comfort  him,  turn  his  thoughts 
away  from  such  vexatious  matters,  and  try  to  win  him 
over  almost  imperceptibly  to  her  own  political  ideas.  At 
last  she  thought  she  had  succeeded ;  but  she  had  not 
sufficient  perspicacity  to  judge  of  the  true  character  of 
Boulanger,  who  had  never  understood  anything  in  the  way 
of  politics  except  the  old  saying  :  "  Otes  toi  de  la,  que  je 
m'y  mette  !  "  ("  Get  out  from  there  in  order  that  I  may 
step  into  your  place  !  ") 

Count  Albert  de  Mun  was  the  only  really  strong  man  who 
had  joined  the  ranks  of  the  Boulangists — I  mean  strong  in 

250 


Adventure  of  General  Boulanger 

the  sense  of  principles  and  opinions.  He  was  the  son  of  the 
charming  Eugenie  de  la  Forronays,  one  of  the  most  delightful 
among  the  gallery  of  delightful  women  who  adorn  that  so 
widely  read  book,  the  "  Recit  d'une  Sceur,"  by  Mrs.  Augustus 
Craven.  He  had  been  singularly  blessed  by  Providence 
with  all  the  qualities,  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual,  that 
help  to  make  a  man  attractive.  He  had  talent,  moreover, 
and  remarkable  eloquence,  and  he  believed  in  monarchy  as 
a  system  and  as  a  tradition  to  which  all  his  past  as  well  as 
that  of  his  race  enjoined  him  to  remain  faithful.  He  had 
earnestly  hoped  that  through  Boulanger  the  cause  to  which 
he  had  devoted  his  life  would  triumph,  and  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  lend  to  the  General  the  prestige  of  his  personal  influence 
over  his  own  followers. 

The  Duchesse  d'Uzes  and  the  Count  Albert  de  Mun  were 
the  most  sincere  in  this  most  insincere  adventure.  It  could 
add  nothing  to  what  they  already  possessed,  and  might,  on 
the  contrary,  considerably  endanger  their  position  among 
their  former  friends  in  case  of  failure.  All  honour  to  them. 
They  at  least  pursued  no  other  aims  than  the  gratification 
of  their  patriotic  feelings.  They  may  have  been  childish  in 
their  loyalty,  but  there  was  nothing  of  sordidness  or  of  petty 
feelings  of  revenge  or  of  worldly  triumph  in  its  composition. 

One  can  hardly  say  the  same  concerning  others  whom 
I  have  already  mentioned.  Laguerre  was  of  a  type  of  con- 
dottieri  met  with  in  the  pages  of  the  history  of  the  Italian 
republics,  ready  to  do  anything  except  turn  back  on  the 
enterprise  once  begun,  whose  hands  were  always  open 
to  receive  but  not  to  give,  whose  ambitions  were  great, 
but  unselfishness  limited,  who  looked  toward  the  enjoyments 
of  the  present  hour  and  toward  the  gratification  of  the  fancies 
of  the  moment,  but  never  ahead  ;  who  could  not  see  the  con- 
sequences of  their  actions,  because  they  knew  that  these  would 

251 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

fall  on  other  heads  than  their  own.  A  brilliant  man  was 
Laguerre,  but  a  character  that  did  not  inspire  confidence 
and  sacrifice,  one  of  those  tools  which  are  indispensable  to 
every  conspiracy.  His  eloquence  was  unrivalled,  his  wit 
something  marvellous,  his  way  of  handling  irony  as  a  weapon, 
quite  indescribable  ;  but  though  he  was  a  politician,  he  was 
not  a  political  man,  and  even  less  a  statesman. 

Deroulede  was  a  patriot,  if  patriotism  is  synonymous 
with  rabidness.  He  could  influence  the  masses  by  the  torrent 
of  his  words.  Whether  he  could  lead  them  is  a  question 
which  has  remained  unanswered  to  this  day,  and  one  may 
be  excused  if  one  entertains  doubts  concerning  his  capacities 
in  that  respect.  He  had  made  a  name  for  himself  by  his 
anti-German  feelings ;  he  gave  it  even  more  importance 
by  his  attitude  in  the  Boulanger  conspiracy  ;  but  when  he 
put  his  undoubted  popularity  at  the  service  of  the  General 
he  did  so  with  the  intention  of  working  for  the  welfare  of  the 
Republic,  and  he  would  have  become  his  most  bitter  foe  had 
he  found  out  that  Boulanger  was  but  the  instrument  of  the 
Orleanist  party. 

As  for  Millevoye,  it  was  another  thing.  He  was  the  only 
one  among  all  these  passengers  in  the  same  ship  who  had 
something  akin  to  political  penetration,  and  who  could  under- 
stand that,  when  one  aspires  to  overthrow  the  government 
of  a  country,  it  is  necessary  to  secure  for  oneself  strong 
sympathies  abroad  in  order  not  to  find  obstacles  in  the  way 
later  on.  He  also  had  patriotic  feelings  akin  to  those  of 
Deroulede,  but  he  had  more  shrewdness,  and  he  it  was  who 
deceived  himself  that  he  could  procure  for  General  Boulanger 
the  support  of  no  less  a  personage  than  the  Tsar  of  all  the 
Russias. 

When  the  events  which  I  am  about  to  relate  occurred,  the 
Franco-Russian  rapprochement  had  not  yet  taken  place.  In 

252 


Adventure  of  General  Boulanger 

1888  the  idea  of  a  French  alliance  was  not  popular  in  Russia, 
and  especially  was  its  Foreign  Office  strongly  German  in  its 
leanings.  Nevertheless,  Millevoye  determined  to  see  for  him- 
self whether  it  would  not  be  possible  to  triumph  over  a 
certain  mistrust  which  existed  in  Russian  official  spheres  in 
regard  to  the  French  Republic.  He  resolved  to  offer  in  ex- 
change a  mute  acquiescence  to  the  election  for  life  of  General 
Boulanger  as  its  President,  a  defensive  alliance  against 
Germany  and  Austria,  as  well  as  the  support  of  France  in 
case  Russia  wanted  to  settle  to  her  advantage  the  long- 
pending  question  of  the  Straits  and  the  Bosphorus. 

In  this  episode  lies  the  only  attempt  at  seriousness  of  the 
Boulanger  conspiracy,  and  it  would  be  a  pity  that  it  should 
remain  in  the  darkness  which  hitherto  has  enshrouded  it. 
Millevoye,  in  order  to  execute  the  plan  that  he  had  elaborated, 
addressed  himself  to  Madame  Adam  (Juliette  Lambert),  and 
asked  her  for  her  advice.  Juliette  Lambert,  who  still  dreamed 
of  an  ideal  Republic,  put  at  the  service  of  Millevoye  all  her 
genius  and  all  her  heart.  She  gave  him  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  a  friend  she  had  in  St.  Petersburg,  a  lady  well  known 
in  Court  circles  ;  and,  in  order  to  ensure  the  success  of  Millevoye, 
who  had  been  very  careful  to  hide  from  her  the  fact  that  he 
wanted  to  enlist  the  sympathies  of  Russia  in  favour  of  General 
Boulanger — rather,  telling  her  that  his  aim  was  to  propose, 
in  the  name  of  the  Republican  party,  an  alliance  against 
Germany — she  had  given  him  certain  political  documents 
calculated  to  help  him  in  his  perilous  adventure. 

Millevoye  first  sent  to  St.  Petersburg  his  friend,  Miss  Maud 
Gonne,  a  lovely  Irish  girl,  who  since  that  time  made  herself 
widely  known  owing  to  her  advocacy  of  Fenianism. 

Miss  Maud  Gonne  duly  arrived  in  Russia,  and,  thanks  to 
her  efforts  and  those  of  the  Russian  lady  to  whom  I  have 
already  referred,  Millevoye  was  introduced  into  the  presence  of 

253 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

M.  Pobedonostseff,  then  Procurator  of  the  Holy  Synod  and 
personal  friend  of  Alexander  III.,  who  promised  he  would 
himself  submit  to  the  Sovereign  the  documents  which  Millevoye 
left  in  his  charge. 

During  this  interview  which  the  Russian  statesman  granted 
to  the  French  politician  the  latter  broached  at  once  the  question 
of  General  Boulanger,  but  this  met  with  no  response.  The 
Tsar  was  far  too  shrewd  a  man  to  allow  himself  to  be  drawn 
into  an  adventure  which,  besides  everything  else,  had  against 
it  a  shade  of  ridicule.  Millevoye  was  discouraged  in  his  dreams, 
but  the  seeds  sown  by  his  journey  were  to  bring  fruit  in  quite 
an  unexpected  fashion  much  later  on. 

Madame  Adam  was  furious  when  she  heard  that  Millevoye, 
instead  of  pleading  the  cause  of  the  Republic,  had  tried  to 
put  forward  that  of  General  Boulanger.  She  not  only  turned 
her  back  upon  him  when  he  returned  crestfallen  from  his 
journey,  but  joined  the  ranks  of  the  adversaries  of  the  pseudo 
hero,  becoming  one  of  the  advisers  of  M.  Constant  in  the 
campaign  that  the  latter  led  with  such  success  against  Bou- 
langism  and  its  chief  leaders. 

M.  Arthur  Meyer,  to  whom  already  I  have  made  a  passing 
reference,  is  more  in  his  proper  place  among  journalists  than 
in  the  ranks  of  political  men.  He  is  a  curious  figure  in  the 
kaleidoscopic  picture  that  Parisian  society  represents  to-day, 
and  though  he  has  no  aristocratic  ancestry  behind  him,  he 
is  ever  a  welcome  and  much-desired  guest  in  the  select  salons 
of  the  city. 

It  can,  therefore,  hardly  be  wondered  that  with  such 
elements  the  Boulangist  party  was  doomed  to  failure.  It  was 
born  by  accident  out  of  the  imagination  of  a  man  who  had 
nothing  better  to  do  than  to  try  to  raise  tiny  storms  in  a 
teacup.  It  wanted  a  leader,  and  it  required  soldiers  to  push 
it  forward.  Unfortunately,  it  attracted  politicians,  each  of 

254 


Adventure  of  General  Boulanger 

whom  wanted  to  exploit  it  for  the  furtherance  of  his  own 
cause,  and  was  led  by  a  man  in  love,  who  preferred  the 
caresses  of  Madame  de  Bonnemains  to  the  chances  of  being 
imprisoned,  and  who  afterwards  was  carried  to  the  Elysee 
by  the  enthusiasm  of  an  intoxicated  nation,  who  would  have 
risen  like  one  man  to  deliver  him  had  the  government  tried 
to  capture  him. 

M.  Constant,  one  of  the  ablest  Prime  Ministers  France 
has  ever  had,  judged  the  acute  situation  with  perfect  accuracy. 
General  Boulanger  in  prison  was  a  danger  to  the  safety  of  the 
Republic  ;  General  Boulanger  in  a  voluntary  exile  ceased  to 
be  a  subject  of  dread  to  anyone.  In  France,  more  than  in 
any  other  country,  cowardice  is  fatal.  She  turned  her  head  away 
from  her  favourite  of  the  day  before  when  she  found  out  that  he 
had  not  the  courage  to  take  a  single  risk  in  order  to  ensure 
his  future  triumph.  When  M.  Constant  caused  to  be  con- 
veyed secretly  to  the  "  Brave  General  "  the  fact  that  he  was 
to  be  arrested  during  the  night,  and  also  managed  to  procure 
for  himself  the  alliance  of  Madame  de  Bonnemains  in  her  fear 
of  losing  her  lover,  the  fate  of  Boulangism  was  sealed.  De- 
prived of  its  chief,  and  of  his  prestige — which  was  far  more 
important,  because  it  was  on  that  prestige  the  leaders  of  the 
party  had  reckoned  far  more  than  on  the  man  himself — the 
forlorn  cause  he  had  embodied  was  bound  to  fall  with  a  crash 
and  bury  everything  under  its  debris. 

As  for  the  heroine  of  this  semi-burlesque  and  semi-dramatic 
adventure,  she  died  shortly  after  its  denouement.  When 
Boulanger  had  fled  from  France  at  her  earnest  request,  she 
was  already  doomed,  and  what  is  worse,  she  knew  it.  She 
was  selfish  enough  to  wish  to  keep  for  herself  during  the  few 
days  which  were  left  to  her  on  earth  the  love  of  the  man  she 
adored,  and,  seriously,  who  can  blame  her  for  it  ?  Certainly 
had  Boulanger  been  of  the  material  from  which  conspirators 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

are  made  he  would  have  sacrificed  her  on  the  altar  of  his  future 
glory.  It  would  have  been  masculine  selfishness,  and  though 
his  partisans  may  regret  he  did  not  display  it,  others  may 
be  forgiven  if  they  see  a  redeeming  feature  to  all  the  follies 
which  will  ever  remain  inseparable  from  the  name  of  Boulanger, 
in  the  weakness  which  made  him  lose  and  destroy  a  political 
party,  because  he  could  not  bear  to  see  a  woman  weep.  It 
is  certain  that  he  truly  loved  Madame  de  Bonnemains  ;  his 
suicide  is  proof. 


256 


CHAPTER    XXII 
THE  PANAMA  SCANDAL 

ONE  of  the  saddest  of  the  many  sad  scandals  that  have 
damaged  the  fair  fame  of  the  Third  Republic  has  certainly 
been  the  lamentable  adventure  connected  with  the  Panama 
Canal.  It  gave  rise  to  such  despicable  intrigues,  brought  to 
light  such  demeaning  cupidities,  provoked  such  bitter  ani- 
mosities, that  the  only  wonder  is  that  the  Republic  itself  did 
not  perish  in  the  resulting  sea  of  mud  which  was  showered 
upon  it  as  well  as  upon  its  leading  men. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  relate  all  the  intricacies  of  this 
memorable  affair,  but  an  effort  can  be  made  to  describe 
its  various  phases  so  far  as  they  have  become  known.  It 
is  next  to  impossible  to  determine  the  limit  where  truth  ends 
and  fabrication  begins  in  this  inextricable  embroglio,  which 
arose  out  of  the  fear  of  some,  the  avarice  of  others,  the  general 
corruption  everywhere.  This  struck  home  the  more  because 
it  occurred  in  a  country  where  the  establishment  of  a  Re- 
publican government  had  been  hailed  with  joy  by  those  who 
accused  the  Empire  of  having  brought  along  with  it  the  system 
of  pots  de  vin,  to  use  the  typical  French  expression,  about 
which  fierce  Radicals,  like  Ranc,  for  instance,  spoke  always 
with  such  disdain  and  contempt. 

Whatever  occurred  later  on,  the  Panama  enterprise  was 

a  perfectly  honest  one  at  its  beginning.     The  high  honour 

of  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps  would  alone  have  been  a  perfect 

guarantee  as  to  the  intentions  of  its  promoters,  even  if  these 

R  257 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

had  been  unknown  men,  and  such  was  not  the  case.  But 
the  difficulties  which  the  whole  affair  presented  had  never 
been  properly  appreciated,  and  the  brilliant  success  of  the 
Suez  Canal  had  blinded  the  eyes  of  those  who  aspired  to 
emulate  it  under  different  conditions,  and  without  the  moral 
help  of  powerful  people  such  as  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III., 
and  the  Khedive  Ismail.  Without  this  even  the  genius  of 
Lesseps  might  have  proved  insufficient,  in  presence  of  the 
opposition  which  England  made  to  the  construction  of  the 
canal. 

Lesseps  himself  had  grown  old,  and,  thanks  to  the 
atmosphere  of  flattery  with  which  he  was  surrounded,  had 
come  to  believe  that  nothing  would  be  impossible  once  he 
was  associated  with  it.  At  the  same  time  he  naively  acknow- 
ledged that  he  had  not  the  slightest  idea  either  of  the  country, 
or  of  the  local  conditions  with  which  the  builders  of  the  new 
canal  would  find  themselves  confronted  in  actual  working. 

The  first  difficulty  which  arose  was,  of  course,  the  want 
of  money.  It  was  soon  discovered  that  the  funds  first 
subscribed  would  prove  totally  insufficient.  Then  someone 
suggested  the  unfortunate  idea  of  an  appeal  to  the  govern- 
ment for  permission  to  organise  a  public  lottery,  the  proceeds 
of  which  would  be  devoted  to  the  construction  of  the  canal. 

It  was  the  issue  of  these  so-called  Panama  bonds  which 
was  to  end  in  a  disaster  quite  unprecedented  in  the  annals 
of  French  finance,  and  which  struck  the  country  to  its  heart, 
because  its  principal  victims  belonged  to  the  poorer  classes 
who  had  been  fascinated  by  the  magical  name  of  Ferdinand 
de  Lesseps. 

The  lottery,  however,  was  not  so  easy  to  organise, 
and  at  first  met  with  considerable  opposition  in  political 
circles.  Lotteries  were  not  looked  upon  with  favour;  one 
which  had  for  object  the  continuation  of  an  enterprise  that 

258 


The  Panama  Scandal 

after  all  was  not  French,  and  which  offered  no  guarantee 
that  it  would  remain  in  French  hands,  did  not  inspire  sym- 
pathy, indeed,  several  leading  politicians  openly  declared  that 
they  would  do  their  very  best  to  discredit  the  scheme.  On 
the  other  hand  money  was  wanted,  and,  what  is  still  more 
important,  courage  was  wanting  also  on  the  part  of  the  directors 
of  the  new  company  to  declare  openly  that,  the  result  of  the 
subscriptions  not  having  answered  their  expectations,  the 
best  thing  to  do  would  be  to  go  into  voluntary  liquidation. 

But  by  adopting  such  a  course,  one  would  have  pro- 
claimed defeat  openly,  and  even  an  honest  man  like  Charles 
de  Lesseps  recoiled  before  such  a  course,  well  realising  the 
storm  of  abuse  which  it  would  provoke  on  all  sides.  The 
directors  therefore  looked  around  them  for  means  of  salva- 
tion, and  the  issue  of  lottery  bonds  appeared  as  the  best 
solution. 

From  that  moment  the  sad  story  began,  and  the  im- 
prudent course  which  ended  by  bringing  the  grey  hairs  of  the 
great  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps  to  the  grave  in  sorrow  and  shame 
was  started.  The  permission  of  the  government  had  to  be 
obtained,  either  by  fair  means  or  by  foul,  and  the  necessity  to 
save  a  work  upon  which  so  many  hopes  had  been  centred, 
and  which  had  already  cost  so  much  money,  persuaded  the 
administrators  of  the  Panama  Company  to  listen  to  the 
tempting  advice  given  to  them  by  men  like  Cornelius  Herz, 
or  Art  on,  and  to  have  recourse  to  the  persuasion  of  cheques 
offered  with  the  necessary  discretion  in  order  to  win  over  to 
them  a  few  rebellious  consciences  that  hitherto  had  refused 
to  be  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  issuing  Panama  lottery 
bonds. 

This  fact  alone  was  sad  enough.  Unfortunately  it  was 
aggravated  by  political  passion,  and  all  the  enemies  of  the 
government  who  afterwards  were  the  first  to  cry  out  that 

259 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

this  scandal  ought  to  have  been  prevented  at  all  costs, 
that  the  services  rendered  to  his  country  by  the  man  known 
everywhere  by  the  name  of  the  "  Grand  FranQais  "  ought 
to  have  guaranteed  him  from  such  vile  attacks  which  began 
from  all  sides  to  be  made  against  his  honour,  were  at  that 
time  the  most  rabid  in  their  outcries  against  him  and  against 
the  light-heartedness  with  which  he  had  allowed  himself  to 
be  drawn  into  the  adventure  which  was  ultimately  to  land 
him  in  the  criminal  dock. 

The  fact  is  that  the  scandal  connected  with  the  Panama 
enterprise  could  never  have  reached  the  proportions  it  attained 
had  it  not  been  for  the  passions  of  the  Royalist  party,  which 
thought  the  situation  might,  if  properly  engineered,  bring 
down  the  Republic,  and  allow  them  to  instal  a  Monarchy 
in  its  place.  They  wanted  to  discredit  the  ministry  then  in 
power,  to  discredit  the  two  Legislative  Chambers — to  discredit 
France,  in  short ;  but  then  it  was  of  France  that  they  thought 
the  least. 

I  find  a  proof  of  this  assertion  in  the  book  published 
a  few  years  ago  by  Arthur  Meyer,  in  which  he  mentions 
the  Panama  affair  among  other  things,  and  relates  how  he 
called  upon  Charles  de  Lesseps  at  the  time  the  truth  was 
just  beginning  to  ooze  out  in  public,  and  told  him  that  in  order 
to  save  his  skin,  he  ought  to  transform  the  private  scandal 
into  a  public  demonstration  of  the  corruption  prevailing 
in  French  political  circles. 

Charles  de  Lesseps,  let  it  be  said  to  his  honour,  was  in- 
capable of  lending  himself  to  such  a  proposal,  and  his  reply 
deserves  to  be  quoted  in  its  entirety,  for  it  illustrates  his  native 
honesty  better  than  a  thousand  panegyrics  would  do  : 

"  My  conscience  forbids  me  to  reply  to  you,"  he  said  to 
Arthur  Meyer  when  the  latter  implored  him  to  name  the 
individuals  to  whom  the  Panama  company  had  distributed 

260 


The  Panama  Scandal 

cheques  with  a  lavish  hand.  "  Supposing  even,  which  I  deny, 
that  the  directors  or  the  friends  of  the  Panama  Company, 
in  order  to  serve  its  interests,  had  had  recourse  to  measures 
which  for  my  part  I  would  always  blame,  do  you  think  that 
I  have  the  right  to  denounce  people  who  have  had  confidence 
in  my  loyalty  and  in  my  discretion  ?  No,  I  shall  say  nothing  ; 
and  more  than  that,  I  have  nothing  to  say.  Our  honesty 
will  come  out  victoriously  in  all  this  campaign  which  has  been 
started  against  us,  and  which  I  deplore  far  more  for  my  father's 
sake  than  for  our  own.  And  then,  I  must  add  it,  and  I  am 
talking  now  to  you  in  perfect  frankness,  I  care  for  the  Republic. 
I  will  not  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  my  Republican  ideal  has 
been  attained  at  the  present  moment,  but  my  wish  is  to  spare 
to  the  Republic  the  shame  of  being  plunged  into  that  torrent 
of  mud  which  you  do  not  hesitate  to  throw  upon  her.  You 
belong  to  a  party  which  has  particular  opinions  as  to  that 
subject;  this  is  your  private  affair  whether  you  accept  its 
methods  or  not,  but  I  certainly  won't  help  you." 

Meyer  had  to  content  himself  with  this  proud  reply,  which 
is  the  more  to  be  admired  in  that  at  the  moment  when  he  was 
so  generously  refusing  to  buy  his  own  safety  by  denouncing 
those  who  had  trusted  to  his  honour,  Charles  de  Lesseps  was 
perfectly  well  aware  that  the  very  people  whom  he  was  trying 
to  shield  were  themselves  preparing  to  throw  him  overboard 
in  order  to  save  their  already  shattered  reputations.  When, 
however,  the  editor  of  the  Gaulois  pressed  him  to  say  whether 
it  was  true  or  not  that  Baron  Jacques  Reinach  had  been 
deputed  to  smooth  down  the  timorous  consciences  of  certain 
deputies  and  political  men,  and  whether  his  name  did  not 
figure  on  the  books  of  the  Panama  Company  as  the  recipient 
of  huge  sums  of  money,  he  was  obliged  to  own  that  as  to  this 
point,  the  accounts  of  the  Panama  Company  being  open  to 
inspection  by  its  shareholders,  he  could  not  hide  the  fact 

261 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

that  the  Baron's  name  figured  upon  its  books  as  having  touched 
the  sum  of  five  million  francs. 

It  was  not  much,  but  for  a  man  endowed  with  the  journalistic 
qualities  of  Arthur  Meyer,  it  was  enough.  He  forthwith 
proceeded  to  inquire  as  to  what  Baron  Reinach  had  done 
with  these  millions  which  had  been  so  liberally  put  at  his 
disposal,  and  he  very  soon  discovered  that  the  said  five 
millions  had  been  transferred  to  a  banking  house  called  Thierrie, 
the  owner  of  which  had  for  sleeping  partner  the  same  Jacques 
Reinach. 

Once  this  fact  was  established  the  rest  was  but  child's 
play.  Meyer  very  quickly  secured  the  necessary  proofs  that 
a  considerable  number  of  deputies  had  received  important 
bribes  in  order  to  Vote  for  the  issue  of  the  Panama  lottery  bonds. 
He  also  discovered  something  else,  and  that  was  that  this 
corruption  had  given  birth  to  a  huge  system  of  blackmail, 
which  had  drained  all  the  resources  of  the  Panama  Company. 
It  had  cruelly  expiated  its  initial  error,  and  had  been  made 
to  pay  for  it  dearly,  in  the  literal  sense  of  that  word.  A 
host  of  adventurers  had  threatened  it  with  revelations,  the 
divulging  of  which  it  could  not  risk,  and  the  ball,  once  set 
rolling,  had  very  soon  been  transformed  into  an  avalanche 
which  had  carried  away  with  it  not  only  the  money  of  the 
unfortunate  shareholders,  but  also  the  honour  and  the  repu- 
tation of  the  directors  of  this  doomed  concern. 

Meyer,  after  holding  a  consultation  with  his  faithful 
lieutenant,  Comely,  of  Figaro  fame,  did  not  hesitate  one 
single  moment  as  to  what  he  had  to  do.  He  firmly  believed 
that  by  raising  the  formidable  scandal,  the  proofs  of  which 
in  such  an  unexpected  manner  had  been  put  within  his  reach, 
he  would  bring  about  the  fall  of  the  Republic,  and  thus  pave 
the  way  towards  the  restoration  of  the  Monarchy.  Events 
showed  that  he  was  totally  mistaken,  because  the  Panama 

262 


The  Panama  Scandal 

scandal  did  not  kill  the  Republic,  it  only  overthrew  a  few 
political  men  and  several  Cabinets,  and  the  shame  of  it  fell  more, 
perhaps,  upon  those  who  had  made  it  public  than  upon  the 
miserable  beings  who  had  been  responsible  for  it  without 
realising  the  abyss  into  which  their  light-heartedness  would 
plunge  them. 

The  man  who  set  the  ball  rolling  was  a  deputy  belonging 
to  the  Extreme  Right,  M.  Jules  Delahaye,  member  for  the 
department  of  Maine-et-Loire.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  brand 
with  disgrace  many  of  his  colleagues,  whose  hands  he  had 
pressed  perhaps  a  few  hours  before  he  consigned  them  to 
ignominy.  He  threw  as  a  challenge  to  France,  and  also 
to  Europe,  the  names  of  104  deputies  whose  consciences 
had  not  hesitated  before  submitting  to  the  fascination  of  the 
all-powerful  cheque. 

I  have  met  M.  Delahaye,  and  in  justice  to  him  I  must  say 
that  he  always  maintained  that  he  had  never  thought  his 
speech  would  have  the  terrible  consequences  which  followed 
upon  it.  Not  in  the  least  had  he  expected  that  that  list  of 
104  deputies  constituted  but  a  fraction  of  the  people  who  had, 
under  one  pretext  or  another,  received  money  from  the  coffers 
of  the  Panama  Company.  He  had  never  admitted,  nor  even 
believed  possible,  that  the  directors  of  that  company  would 
have  so  entirely  lost  their  heads  as  to  listen  to  every  threat, 
submit  to  every  extortion,  and  pay,  pay,  without  discrimina- 
tion and  without  hesitation,  the  enormous  sums  of  hush 
money  that  had  been  drained  out  of  them,  half  of  the  time 
by  people  who  could  not  have  harmed  them  in  the  least 
degree. 

The  fact  is  that  this  whole  disaster  had  fear  for  its  founda- 
tion, and  political  intrigue  to  thank  for  the  unexpected  develop- 
ment that  overtook  it.  The  few  officials  of  the  Panama 
Company  administering  its  affairs  after  they  had  consented 

263 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

to  offer  their  first  bribe,  and  had  seen  it  accepted,  immediately 
fell  into  the  clutches  of  a  band  of  blackmailers  who  had  specu- 
lated on  the  impossibility  of  such  a  thing  becoming  public, 
and  on  the  natural  desire  to  prevent  it  getting  to  the  knowledge 
not  only  of  the  shareholders  of  that  unfortunate  concern, 
but  also  of  the  venerable  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps  himself. 

This  last  event  was  one  which  his  son  Charles  most  dreaded. 
He  not  only  loved,  but  also  respected  his  father,  whose  grey 
hairs  he  would  have  liked  to  go  down  honoured  to  the  grave. 
He  remembered  the  days  when  with  the  name  Ferdinand  de 
Lesseps  one  could  attempt  any  kind  of  enterprise,  could 
always  find  people  ready  to  back  it  up,  and  to  believe  in  it. 
He  had  not  yet  forgotten  the  praise  bestowed  on  the  "  Grand 
Frangais,"  not  only  in  his  own  fatherland,  but  also  every- 
where in  Europe,  and  wherever  he  had  shown  himself.  He 
was  but  too  well  aware  of  the  honesty  of  purpose  that  had 
always  distinguished  the  brave  old  man  who  was  being  pilloried 
by  the  same  public  that  had  cheered  him  a  few  months  before, 
and  he  would  have  given  much  to  be  able  to  take  upon  his 
own  shoulders  the  weight  of  the  responsibilities  that  were 
crushing  his  father.  He  directed  all  his  efforts  towards  that 
one  aim,  and  he  partly  succeeded,  because  Providence  turned 
out  more  merciful  than  men ;  she  struck  old  Lesseps  in  his 
advanced  age,  and  threw  the  veil  of  oblivion  on  his  once 
powerful  brain. 

He  never  knew  that  he  had  been  sentenced  to  imprison- 
ment, he  never  understood  anything  of  the  tragedy  of  which 
he  was  the  miserable  hero.  He  died  in  blissful  unconscious- 
ness of  all  the  evil  attached  to  his  name,  of  all  the  scandal 
that  surrounded  his  last  hours.  His  wife  heroically  defended 
him  against  the  intrusion  of  any  stranger  who  might  by  an 
unguarded  word  have  aroused  his  suspicions.  His  son  re- 
mained always  vigilant  near  his  arm-chair,  and  spoke  to 

264 


The  Panama  Scandal 

him  of  hope  and  of  future  glories  coming  to  pile  themselves 
on  those  he  had  already  achieved.  In  his  affection,  his  filial 
devotion  to  his  father,  Charles  de  Lesseps  was  a  hero,  and  even 
his  worst  detractors  have  bowed  down  before  the  courage 
with  which  he  exposed  himself  to  every  reproach,  and  accepted 
every  blame,  in  order  to  spare  the  old  man  who  remained 
sitting  in  his  arm-chair  beside  the  fire,  thinking  of  the  successes 
of  the  past,  and  ignorant  of  the  tragedy  of  the  present. 

One  day  I  met  Charles  de  Lesseps  coming  out  of  the  Palais 
de  Justice  in  Paris  with  his  advocate.  He  shook  hands, 
and  when  I  asked  him  how  things  were  going  he  smiled  sadly 
and  replied  that  he  had  lost  every  hope  of  avoiding  a  public 
trial  of  the  directors  of  the  Panama  Company,  but  he  hastened 
to  add,  and  one  could  see  how  very  much  relieved  he  felt 
at  the  mere  idea  :  "  I  have  been  given  the  assurance  that 
my  father  will  not  in  any  case  be  implicated  in  the  prosecu- 
tion that  is  impending." 

He  was  mistaken,  his  father  was  also  dragged  into  the 
dock,  and  also  sentenced  to  several  years'  imprisonment. 
Unfortunately  for  France  her  political  men  have  not  yet  under- 
stood the  necessity  which  ought  to  impose  itself  upon  every 
nation  without  anyone  trying  to  explain  it  to  her — the  duty 
of  respecting  its  national  glories,  and  shielding  them  from 
desecration. 

One  of  the  curious  features  of  this  lamentable  Panama 
affair  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  company's  money  went  into 
the  coffers  of  people  who  absolutely  could  do  nothing  for  it, 
and  who  got  into  the  habit  of  turning  to  it  whenever  they 
found  themselves  in  want  of  ready  cash  for  their  necessities 
or  even  for  their  pleasures.  It  has  been  sweepingly  asserted 
that  scarcely  one  politician  in  the  whole  of  France,  no  matter 
to  what  party  he  belonged,  but  had  had  recourse  to  it  in  order 
to  replenish  his  exchequer.  There  were  found  some  deputies 

265 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

who,  whenever  they  required  money,  managed  to  whisper 
in  the  ear  of  one  or  other  of  the  many  intermediaries  through 
whom  the  business  of  corruption  was  going  on  that  they 
were  forced  to  make  an  interpellation  in  the  Chamber 
concerning  the  management  of  the  concern,  which,  of 
course,  might  bring  along  unpleasant  consequences  or  reve- 
lations as  to  certain  facts.  Such  an  one  was  sure  the  next 
day  of  finding  a  cheque  in  one  of  his  morning  letters.  Or 
it  was  a  friend  of  some  influential  personage  who  declared 
that  he  had  heard  that  such  and  such  a  measure  was  under 
consideration,  which  might  prove  harmful  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  company,  or  put  some  stumbling-block  or  other 
in  its  way,  and  that  this  had  to  be  prevented  at  all  costs.  Of 
course  he  would  not  take  anything  for  this,  but  he  had  to 
have  recourse  to  a  friend  able  to  ward  off  the  impending  blow, 
and  naturally  that  friend  required  to  be  remunerated  for 
his  work.  Or  again  there  was  some  necessary  expense  to  be 
incurred  in  regard  to  the  national  defence,  or  to  pay  for  some 
secret  political  services  which  the  government  in  its  incapacity 
and  carelessness  as  to  what  were  the  real  interests  of  France 
refused  to  undertake,  partly  also  because  it  could  not,  without 
imperilling  national  safety,  give  to  the  Chambers  the  necessary 
explanations  as  to  the  reasons  which  rendered  such  expenses 
indispensable.  The  self-sacrifice  of  the  company  in  taking 
upon  itself  such  an  outlay  would  entitle  it  to  any  reward 
it  might  care  to  ask  in  exchange,  and  so  forth.  Looking 
backward,  it  is  difficult  to  understand  the  extreme  naivete 
which  presided  over  every  aspect  of  this  singular  adventure, 
and  the  credulity  with  which  serious  people  like  Charles  de 
Lesseps,  and  his  colleagues  of  the  board,  believed  and  were 
intimidated  by  all  the  old  women's  tales  that  were  constantly 
being  brought  to  them. 

It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  name  among  all  those  which 

266 


The  Panama  Scandal 

were  prominent  in  political  life  at  that  particular  moment 
of  French  history  which  was  not  mixed  up  somehow  in  the 
Panama  scandal.  At  least  one  President  and  a  foreign 
Ambassador  were  contaminated  by  the  general  infection  that 
prevailed  everywhere. 

M.  Rouvier,  too,  that  strong  character,  was  not  free  from 
suspicions  of  having  looked  into  the  coffers  of  the  Panama 
Company.  And  what  gives,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  shade  of 
likelihood  to  the  reproach  which  was  hurled  at  him  is  the  fol- 
lowing fact,  which  I  believe  has  never  before  been  made  public. 

M.  Rouvier  had  amongst  his  many  enemies  M.  Flourens, 
then  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  an  able,  intelligent,  and 
highly  cultured  man.  M.  Flourens  did  not  care  at  all  for 
M.  Rouvier,  in  whom  he  saw  a  future  rival,  and  recognised 
a  powerful  opponent.  When  some  rumours  reached  his  ears 
that  things  detrimental  to  the  latter  might  be  put  forward 
in  connection  with  the  dealings  of  the  Panama  Company, 
he  declared  to  a  few  personal  friends  that  if  such  was  the  case 
he  would  not  hesitate  to  make  use  of  the  knowledge,  and  to 
do  his  best  to  bring  the  delinquent  to  justice.  The  words 
were  repeated  to  Rouvier,  who  smiled  and  said  nothing. 
But  somehow,  a  few  days  later,  during  a  conversation  with 
the  same  friend,  to  whom  he  had  expressed  his  determination 
of  being  merciless  in  regard  to  his  enemy,  M.  Flourens  changed 
his  attitude,  and  merely  remarked  that  it  was  a  great  pity 
that  sometimes  outward  circumstances,  over  which  man  had 
no  control,  obliged  him  to  tolerate  things  that  were  repugnant 
to  him,  and  to  look  through  his  fingers  on  facts  which  he  could 
not  disclose  without  harming  superior  interests.  He  then 
added  that  he  had  received  a  letter  from  M.  Rouvier.  When 
further  questioned  as  to  what  its  contents  might  be,  he  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  and  replied  :  "  C'est  une  lettre  qui  m'a  desarm£, 
et  qui  aurait  desarme  bien  d'autres  que  moi."  Months  later, 

267 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

General  Tcherevine,  head  of  the  Tsar's  secret  police,  received 
anonymously  the  original  of  this  very  letter,  and  never  could 
discover,  in  spite  of  strenuous  efforts,  who  had  sent  it  to  him. 
It  was  a  short  but  expressive  missive,  and  merely  declared 
that  in  case  Flourens  did  not  hush  up  the  rumours  which 
accused  M.  Rouvier  of  having  profited  by  the  circumstances 
in  which  the  Panama  Company  had  found  itself  involved, 
he  would  speak  publicly  concerning  the  bribes  that  had  been 
offered  to  and  accepted  by  a  certain  Ambassador  in  Paris, 
and  state  their  amount. 

I  have  reason  to  believe  that  this  letter  was  subsequently 
put  under  the  eyes  of  Alexander  III.  by  Count  Voronzov, 
at  that  time  Minister  of  the  Imperial  Household. 

This  mere  fact  that  it  became  possible  for  the  Ambassador 
of  a  Foreign  Power  to  find  himself  mixed  up  in  the  sordid 
intrigues  which  gave  such  a  special  colouring  to  the  Panama 
affair  proves  how  wide  were  its  ramifications,  and  how  it 
had  entwined  itself  around  every  element  that  constituted 
modern  France.  But  though  many  had  allowed  themselves 
to  be  compromised  in  one  way  or  another  in  this  disgraceful 
story,  it  would  never  have  attained  the  proportions  to  which 
it  ultimately  rose  had  not  the  Extreme  Right  party  done  its 
best  to  fan  the  general  indignation,  and  to  draw  public  atten- 
tion to  every  incident  even  of  the  smallest  kind  connected 
with  it.  The  leaders  of  this  party  did  not  hesitate  an  instant 
before  the  grave  responsibility  of  exhibiting  their  national 
disgrace  in  the  presence  of  an  attentive  and  disgusted  Europe, 
so  great  was  their  desire  of  ruining  their  opponents  and  over- 
throwing the  Republic.  But  in  the  end  the  Panama  scandal 
brought  more  disgrace  to  the  people  who  had  done  their 
best  to  expose  it  than  to  those  who  had  been  its  immediate 
cause. 

I  was  talking  about  it  some  years  later  with  a  friend  of 

268 


The  Panama  Scandal 

mine,  a  Frenchman  of  remarkable  acuteness  and  singular  clear- 
ness of  judgment,  who  had  been  in  Paris  during  the  whole 
time  the  affair  lasted,  and  had  followed  it  very  carefully, 
though  not  a  politician  himself.  I  asked  him  what  impression 
it  had  really  produced  upon  the  saner  elements  of  the  French 
nation,  who  had  looked  upon  it  from  the  distance. 

"  It  has  consolidated  the  Republic,"  was  his  prompt  reply. 

"  How  is  that  possible  ?  "    I  inquired. 

"  It  is  easy  enough  to  understand,"  he  explained  to  me. 
"  Popular  sympathy  generally  goes  to  the  victims  of  a  cause 
rather  than  to  those  who  have  brought  them  to  the  scaffold, 
be  it  that  of  public  opinion  or  any  other.  In  this  case  it  was 
the  Republic  which  happened  to  be  the  victim,  and  the  so-called 
Monarchist  or  Right  party  who  were  the  denouncers.  They 
both  benefited  in  their  respective  positions,  but  the  people, 
who  generally  judge  of  things  according  to  their  own  standards, 
asked  themselves  what  was  the  object  that  was  sought  by 
the  disclosures. 

"  Corruption  has  existed  everywhere  and  always.  We 
find  it  written  upon  almost  every  page  of  the  world's 
history,  and  it  is  nothing  new  to  see  politicians  allowing 
themselves  to  be  influenced  by  the  golden  calf.  Why,  even 
Moses's  priests  bent  their  knee  before  it  in  the  desert.  But 
the  fact  that  they  have  done  so  does  not  mean  that  the  whole 
nation  to  which  they  belong  has  followed  them  in  their  errors. 

"  The  great  mistake  in  this  Panama  affair  has  been  that 
we  have  tried  to  make  France  and  the  Republic  responsible. 
It  is  but  seldom  that  a  government  is  corrupt,  and  it  is  not 
guilty  of  the  faults  of  those  who  lead  it.  A  government 
is  a  principle  ;  men,  even  though  ministers,  are  apt  to  fall 
and  to  commit  reprovable  and  even  criminal  acts.  But  why 
accuse  a  regime  of  the  actions  of  a  few  among  those  who 
represent  it,  why  especially  shut  one's  eyes  to  the  fact  that 

269 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

this  Panama  comedy  or  drama,  call  it  what  you  like,  was 
nothing  else  but  one  of  the  innumerable  political  intrigues 
of  this  or  that  party  against  the  existing  order  of  things? 
We  have  often  discussed  Boulangism ;  well,  the  Panama 
scandal  was  simply  another  Boulangist  conspiracy  under  a 
different  name.  It  may  have  disgraced  some  individuals, 
it  has  not  taken  anything  away  from  the  grandeur  of  France 
or  from  the  merits,  such  as  they  are,  of  the  Republic.  Believe 
me,  my  friend,  it  is  not  by  singing  the  ballad  of  Madame  Angot 
that  a  King  will  re-establish  himself  at  the  Elysee.  In  order 
to  do  this,  something  more  than  a '  collet  noir '  and  a '  perruque 
blonde'  is  needed.  A  man  is  required,  and  so  far  I  have 
neither  met  nor  seen  him." 


270 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

Two  PRESIDENTS 

FROM  a  constitutionally  Republican  point  of  view,  M.  Sadi 
Carnot,  about  whom  already  I  have  said  a  few  words,  made 
an  admirable  Head  of  the  State — honest,  dignified,  strictly 
observant  of  his  duties  ;  of  unfailing  tact,  and  with  neither 
slur  nor  blemish  either  in  his  political  or  in  his  private  life. 
He  knew  how  to  hold  himself  in  public,  was  moreover  a  fair 
speaker  and  a  very  well-read  man.  But  he  had  nothing  about 
him  capable  of  provoking  enthusiasm  among  the  masses. 
His  cold  attitude,  indeed,  which  drew  on  him  the  nickname 
of  "  the  President  with  a  wooden  head,"  did  not  appeal  to 
the  nation.  He  was  generally  respected  and  esteemed, 
he  was  even  liked,  but  he  never  became  popular,  and  the 
impression  he  produced  on  outsiders,  and  those  who  only  saw 
him  performing  his  functions,  otherwise  never  being  brought 
into  contact  with  him,  can  be  summed  up  in  the  remark 
made  by  a  little  schoolgirl  who,  on  one  of  his  provincial 
tournees,  had  presented  him  with  a  bouquet  of  flowers,  and 
whom  he  had  kissed  :  "II  ressemble  a  la  poupee  de  cire  du 
Musee  Grevin,  que  Ton  m'a  montree  a  Paris,  seulement  il 
est  moins  joli  "  ("  He  is  like  the  wax  doll  of  the  Grevin  Museum 
I  was  taken  to  see  in  Paris,  only  he  is  not  so  handsome  "). 

In  spite  of  this  drawback  M.  Carnot  would  very  probably 
have  been  re-elected  had  his  career  not  been  cut  short  by 
the  knife  of  Caserio.  By  a  strange  irony  of  fate,  this  Re- 
publican, whose  ancestors  had  helped  to  overthrow  royalty 

271 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

in  France,  died  the  death  of  a  King.  The  odiousness  of  this 
crime  is  still  remembered.  It  was  a  crime  for  which  even  the 
most  rabid  anarchists  could  not  find  excuse.  With  the 
murder  of  the  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Austria,  it  remains  one 
of  the  most  inexplicable  crimes  of  modern  times,  and  even 
political  hatreds  cannot  justify  it.  M.  Carnot  was  univers- 
ally regretted,  even  by  those  who  did  not  sympathise  with 
him. 

His  sudden  death  left  the  field  open  for  a  race  to  the 
Presidential  chair,  which  probably  would  not  have  been  so 
fierce  had  the  election  of  the  Head  of  the  State  taken  place 
under  normal  conditions,  or  had  he  even  succumbed  to  illness 
or  natural  causes.  No  one  had  any  thought  of  the  possibility 
of  a  Presidential  election,  and  neither  Radical,  nor  Republican, 
nor  the  Monarchist  parties  had  a  candidate  ready  to  step  into 
the  place  left  so  suddenly  vacant.  When  the  Congress 
assembled  at  Versailles  no  one  had  the  least  idea  who,  among 
the  eligible  politicians  of  the  moment,  held  most  chances 
to  succeed  the  murdered  President,  and  the  election  of  M. 
Casimir  Perier  was  due,  perhaps,  more  to  the  lack  of  any 
suitable  competitors  than  to  his  own  merits. 

M.  Casimir  Perier  was  a  remarkable  man  in  his  way.  He 
came  from  a  good  bourgeois  stock,  such  as  had  played  an 
important  part  in  political  life  at  the  beginning  of  the  great 
revolution  of  1789.  It  was  in  the  castle  of  his  grandfather, 
Vizille,  near  Grenoble,  that  the  first  revolutionary  assembly 
of  provincial  states  had  taken  place.  Later  on,  his  grandfather 
had  been  head  of  the  Cabinet  under  Louis  Philippe,  and  for 
more  than  a  century  the  Periers  had  been  conspicuous  in  France. 
Casimir,  moreover,  was  extremely  rich,  which  fact  gave  him 
an  independence  such  as  very  few  political  men  of  his  genera- 
tion could  boast.  He  had  been  born  and  bred  in  a  most 
refined  atmosphere,  and  always  moved  in  the  very  best 

272 


Two  Presidents 

society,  so  that  he  found  himself  at  his  ease  when  he  entered 
the  Elysee. 

His  wife  also  was  a  most  distinguished  woman,  who 
bore  herself  like  a  queen,  and  who  had  dispensed  not  only 
a  semi-regal  hospitality  in  her  own  house,  long  before  she 
was  called  upon  to  continue  doing  so  as  the  first  lady  in  the 
land,  but  who,  all  her  life,  had  also  understood  the  duties 
towards  the  disinherited  of  this  earth  which  a  great  fortune 
carries  along  with  it.  She  was  universally  respected  on 
account  of  her  private  virtues  and  blameless  life,  and  she 
brought  to  the  Elysee  an  atmosphere  of  elegance  and  refine- 
ment greater  even  than  existed  during  the  days  when  the 
Duchesse  de  Magenta  had  presided  over  its  destinies. 

The  advent  of  the  Casimir  Periers  did  away  with  the 
reputation  for  meanness  and  dullness  that  had  clung  to  the 
receptions  of  the  Head  of  the  State  ever  since  the  days  of 
M.  Grevy  and  his  estimable  but  commonplace  wife.  Once 
more  people  belonging  to  the  upper  classes  returned  to  the 
Presidency.  M.  and  Mme.  Casimir  Perier  visited  a  great  deal, 
accepted  invitations  to  Embassies  and  to  the  houses  of 
members  of  the  Cabinet ;  they  received  frequently  too,  and 
made  themselves  extremely  well  liked  in  fashionable  Paris. 

In  spite  of  this,  however,  the  new  President  did  not  find 
his  position  pleasant  or  easy.  He  had  an  authoritative 
character,  and  liked  to  have  his  own  way,  and  also  to  discuss 
with  his  ministers  the  decisions  which  they  submitted  to 
his  signature.  He  had  been  reared  under  strictly  constitu- 
tional principles,  but  he  was  also  very  well  aware  of  his  rights 
under  the  Constitution  of  France,  and  had  not  the  least 
intention  of  forgoing  them,  or  of  abandoning  one  single  iota 
of  his  prerogatives.  He  was  determined  from  the  outset  not 
to  allow  himself  to  become  a  mere  figurehead  in  the  govern- 
ment, but  to  make  use  of  his  privilege  to  be  put  au  courant 
s  273 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

of  everything  that  was  being  done  around  him.  His  was 
essentially  a  fighting  temperament,  and  it  was  bound  to 
bring  him  into  conflict  with  his  ministers,  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  the  resignation  with  which  both  M.  Jules 
Grevy  and  M.  Sadi  Carnot  had  acquiesced  in  everything 
that  had  been  proposed  to  them. 

Much  has  been  said  concerning  the  resignation  of  M. 
Casimir  Perier,  and  for  a  long  time  it  was  believed  even  among 
people  who  ought  to  have  known  better  that  he  had  retired 
owing  to  threats  which  the  German  Ambassador,  Count 
Munster,  had  uttered  at  the  time  of  the  first  Dreyfus  affair. 
I  have  strong  reasons  to  believe  that  it  was  nothing  of  the 
kind  which  influenced  him.  The  legend  of  Captain  Dreyfus 
having  been  a  German  spy  exploded  long  ago,  and  Count 
Munster  never  found  himself  under  the  least  necessity  of 
resorting  to  threats,  though  with  a  certain  amount  of  justice 
he  may  have  felt  disgusted  at  the  way  the  person  of  his 
Sovereign  was  dragged  into  the  disreputable  affair. 

The  sole  reason  of  M.  Casimir  Perier' s  retirement  lay 
in  the  sincere  conviction  that  very  soon  got  hold  of  him, 
that  he  would  not  be  allowed  to  do  what  he  liked,  or  even  to 
attempt  to  resist  the  rising  tide  of  Radicalism  which  he  would 
have  preferred  to  keep  down.  He  was  rich,  independent, 
and  of  an  easy  and  lazy  temperament,  which  made  him  im- 
patient of  the  resistance  which  his  best  intentions  met  from 
the  very  people  who  ought  to  have  appreciated  them. 

He  soon  realised  that  if  he  clung  to  position  he  would 
be  overturned  as  were  his  predecessors,  Marshal  MacMahon 
and  M.  Thiers,  and  rather  than  be  told  to  go  away  he  preferred 
to  take  leave  of  uncongenial  colleagues,  and  to  retire  with 
all  the  honours  of  war.  He  had  made  many  friends  during 
his  short  tenure  of  office,  but  had  also  contrived  to  acquire 
many  enemies,  and  somehow  the  fact  of  the  existence  of 

274 


Two  Presidents 

these  last  jarred  upon  his  nerves,  influencing  him  perhaps 
more  than  it  should,  because  those  in  high  places  have  no 
right  to  be  too  sensitive.  One  cannot  change  one's  character, 
however,  and  that  of  M.  Casimir  Perier  could  not  brook  the 
thorns  which  were  entwined  with  the  roses  that  strewed  his 
path.  He  showed,  on  his  retirement,  an  obstinacy  with  which 
he  has  been  very  bitterly  reproached  by  his  personal  friends, 
for  he  did  so  in  spite  of  the  supplications  of  all  who  composed 
his  immediate  entourage.  He  declared  he  should  go  away, 
and  go  away  he  did. 

He  had  been  on  very  good  terms  with  all  the  foreign 
Ambassadors  and  diplomats  accredited  at  the  Elysee,  and 
these,  one  and  all,  bitterly  regretted  his  departure.  M. 
Casimir  Perier  had  tact  and  great  knowledge  of  the  world, 
a  quality  that  his  predecessors  more  or  less  lacked.  Per- 
haps it  was  from  this  cause  that  during  the  few  short  months 
of  his  Presidency  the  relations  of  the  French  Government  with 
the  German  Embassy  had  become  more  cordial  than  had 
been  the  case  since  the  war. 

Talking  of  the  German  Embassy,  I  have  already  men- 
tioned Count  Munster.  He  was  a  great  friend  of  mine,  and 
perhaps  one  of  the  ablest  men,  under  his  lazy  indolent  manner, 
that  the  German  diplomatic  service  has  ever  possessed.  His 
wife  having  been  English,  he  liked  England  better  than  any 
other  nation,  not  excepting  his  own,  in  certain  cases.  He 
looked  like  an  Englishman,  too,  and  nothing  pleased  him 
more  than  to  be  taken  for  one.  Essentially  a  grand  seigneur 
of  the  old  school,  he  was  incapable  of  meanness,  and  even 
in  his  diplomatic  relations  he  always  avoided  saying  any- 
thing that  he  did  not  really  think  or  believe  to  be  the  truth. 
Placed  in  a  very  delicate  position  in  Paris,  where  German 
diplomats  were  strenuously  avoided  by  all  those  who  were 
not  obliged  to  receive  them,  he  contrived  even  there  to  make 

275 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

a  position  for  himself,  still  better,  perhaps,  than  Prince 
Hohenlohe,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  latter  had 
relatives  among  the  society  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain, 
where  he  had  been  warmly  welcomed  before  the  war,  but 
which  gave  him  the  cold  shoulder  when  he  returned  to 
Paris  in  an  official  capacity  after  the  disasters  of  1870.  And 
yet  Prince  Hohenlohe  had  far  more  conciliatory  manners 
than  Count  Munster,  and  was  a  far  pleasanter  man  in  social 
relations ;  also,  perhaps,  he  had  more  shrewdness  than  the 
latter,  and  certainly  was  more  amenable  to  compromise  if 
the  necessity  for  such  occurred.  But  the  Count  made  him- 
self respected  wherever  he  appeared,  I  mean  respected  in 
the  sense  that  he  conveyed  the  impression  that  he  would 
never  allow  himself  to  be  trifled  with,  whilst  always  ready 
to  meet  his  opponents  in  everything  except  in  yielding  to 
them. 

This  digression  has  led  me  far  away  from  M.  Casimir 
Perier  and  his  retirement  from  public  life,  and  I  must  return 
in  order  to  relate  the  circumstances  which  followed  upon 
his  resignation.  To  say  the  least  of  it,  his  action  considerably 
embarrassed  not  only  his  ministers,  but  also  the  leaders  of 
the  different  parties  in  both  Chambers. 

For  the  second  time  within  one  year  the  country  was  called 
upon  to  elect  a  President  of  the  Republic,  and  for  the  second 
time  the  event  came  as  a  total  surprise  upon  France  and 
upon  its  politicians.  Once  more  candidates  made  themselves 
heard,  and  once  again,  in  presence  of  those  who  pretended 
that  they  had  the  best  right  not  to  be  passed  by  in  this  political 
Derby,  an  outsider  won  the  prize,  and  M.  Felix  Faure,  about 
whom  no  one  had  thought,  was  elected  to  the  Presidency  of 
the  French  Republic. 

M.  Felix  Faure  was  chiefly  known  because  he  had  been 
vice-president  of  the  famous  Ligue  des  Patriotes,  the  president 

276 


Two  Presidents 

of  which  was  then,  and  till  his  death  in  the  early  months 
of  1914,  the  ardent  Paul  Deroulede.  This  fact  alone  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  excite  the  apprehensions  of  Germany, 
and  M.  Faure  understood  this  so  well  that  he  at  once  made 
up  his  mind  to  pose  outright  as  a  partisan  of  the  Russian 
alliance,  that  dream  of  all  French  political  men  ever  since  the 
establishment  of  the  Third  Republic. 

M.  Felix  Faure  was  far  from  being  a  stupid  man :  he  had 
his  points  of  ridicule  which  perhaps  did  him  more  harm  than 
real  defects  would  have  done.  He  had  vanity  to  an  inordinate 
degree,  loved  luxury  and  splendour,  and  enjoyed  the  external 
advantages  of  his  new  position  with  an  almost  childish  joy. 
He  fondly  imagined  that  he  had  been  born  to  the  purple 
which  had  been  thrown  upon  his  shoulders,  and  without  the 
instincts  of  a  parvenu  he  yet  behaved  like  one. 

He  had,  however,  a  far  greater  knowledge  of  politics  than 
he  has  ever  been  given  credit  for,  and  he  was  a  sincere  patriot, 
though  his  patriotism  was  an  essentially  selfish  one.  It  is 
to  be  doubted  whether  he  ever  would  have  reconciled  himself 
to  a  return  to  the  life  of  an  ordinary  citizen,  and  perhaps 
the  greatest  luck  of  a  life  which  was  very  lucky,  when  all  is 
said  and  done,  was  his  death  when  still  in  the  enjoyment  of 
the  privileges  of  a  position  he  had  grown  to  love. 

But  I  repeat  it  again,  he  was  no  mean  politician.  It  was 
under  his  tenure  of  office  that  the  Russian  alliance  was  es- 
tablished, and  he  certainly  showed  keen  perspicacity  in  the 
way  in  which  he  contrived  to  bring  it  about,  as  well  as  by 
the  perseverance  he  displayed  on  this  occasion. 

It  was  M.  Faure  who  first  thought  of  sending  the  French 
fleet  to  Cronstadt,  and  it  was  he  who  insisted  on  the  great 
reception  that  was  awarded  to  the  Russians  when  their  fleet 
came  to  Toulon.  It  was  he,  also,  who  first  tried  to  win  over  the 
Russian  Ambassador,  M.  de  Mohrenheim,  to  his  views  on  the 

277 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

subject,  and  who  did  not  hesitate  to  resort  to  all  kinds  of 
diplomatic  arguments  in  order  to  win  his  interest. 

Later  on  M.  Mohrenheim  gave  himself  all  the  credit  for 
the  result  of  the  conferences  which  took  place  at  that  particular 
time  between  him  and  M.  Faure,  conferences  about  which  the 
world  heard  nothing,  and  suspected  even  less.  But  though 
Russian  diplomacy  prided  herself  upon  having  hit  on  this 
brilliant  idea  of  a  rapprochement  with  France,  as  a  safeguard 
against  the  ambitions  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  the  fact  remains, 
and  is  well  known  to  all  those  who  have  been  behind  the 
scenes  of  what  was  going  on  in  Europe  at  that  particular 
time,  that  it  was  in  France  that  the  idea  originated,  and  that 
this  idea  had  been  carefully  entertained  and  impressed  upon 
the  French  nation  by  none  other  than  M.  Felix  Faure. 

Apart  from  any  statesmanlike  leanings  and  aspirations 
which  did  exist  in  him,  he  was  drawn  towards  it  by  his  own 
personal  vanity,  and  the  desire  to  be  able  to  welcome  in  Paris 
as  his  guests,  first  the  representatives  of  the  most  autocratic 
Sovereign  in  the  world,  and  later  on  that  Sovereign  himself, 
by  whom  he,  the  son  of  a  Havre  tanner,  would  be  treated  as 
an  equal.  That  would  be  a  triumph  indeed,  and  in  order  to 
obtain  it  he  used  every  effort  to  break  through  all  the 
barriers  which  existed  between  the  realisation  of  his  dream 
and  the  hard  reality. 

Huge  sums  of  money  were  spent  at  that  time  both  in  France 
and  in  Russia  in  order  to  prepare  the  public  mind,  through 
the  press,  for  this  extraordinary  turn  in  the  politics  of  both 
countries.  The  campaign  was  engineered  with  consummate 
skill,  and  very  few  people  saw  through  it.  It  very  quickly 
brought  about  the  wished-for  results,  and  might  have  done  so 
even  more  quickly  had  it  not  been  for  various  indiscretions  com- 
mitted by  M.  Mohrenheim,  whose  personal  wants  were  some- 
times ahead  of  the  march  of  events,  and  who  allowed  himself 

278 


Two  Presidents 

upon  one  or  two  occasions  to  let  his  impatience  take  the  upper 
hand  of  his  prudence,  and  in  order  to  satisfy  those  for  whom 
he  worked  to  attack  with  violence  certain  French  politicians 
whom  he  feared  might  prove  rebellious  against  the  efforts 
which  were  being  made.  He  tried,  therefore,  to  oblige  them 
to  walk  in  the  path  mapped  out  for  them. 

One  of  these  two  occasions  arose  when  M.  Clemenceau, 
who  already  at  that  time  had  made  for  himself  an  eminent 
position  in  the  ranks  of  the  Radical  party,  whose  leader 
he  was  supposed  to  be,  uttered  some  doubts  as  to  whether  the 
French  Government  was  not  going  too  far  in  its  advances 
to  Russia,  and  was  compromising  the  dignity  of  France 
without  feeling  sure  that  its  conduct  would  be  reciprocated 
on  the  banks  of  the  Neva.  Alexander  III.  was  reigning  still, 
and  it  was  very  well  known  he  had  no  sympathies  for  Re- 
publics in  general,  and  many  people  believed,  together  with 
Clemenceau,  that  though  the  Marseillaise  had  been  played 
at  the  State  dinner  which  was  given  at  Peterhof  in  honour 
of  the  French  naval  squadron  anchored  at  Cronstadt,  things 
would  not  go  further,  and  the  Tsar  would  hesitate  a  very 
long  time  before  he  would  condescend  to  admit  Marianne  in 
his  intimacy,  and  to  walk  hand  in  hand  with  her,  amidst  the 
crowned  heads  of  Europe,  whilst  they  stood  aghast  at  the 
unexpected  spectacle. 

Furious  to  discover  that  the  doubts  uttered  by  M. 
Clemenceau  had  found  an  echo  among  many  prudent  French 
political  circles,  Baron  Mohrenheim,  in  his  impatience,  un- 
burdened his  outraged  feelings  to  the  Marquis  de  Mores, 
that  fierce  adversary  of  everything  that  had  to  do  with  the 
Republic  and  its  partisans.  Mores  did  not  hesitate  to  say 
openly  that  it  was  the  Radical  party  in  France  that  was 
doing  its  best  to  prevent  an  alliance  with  Russia,  for  which 
the  latter  country  was  yearning.  Upon  this  Clemenceau, 

279 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

indignant  and  never  behindhand  on  occasions  when  he  could 
attack  someone,  took  up  his  best  Toledo  pen  and  wrote  to 
the  Russian  Ambassador  the  following  letter,  which  certainly 
deserves  not  to  fall  into  oblivion,  where  it  has  remained  these 
long  years  : 

"Paris,  September  jth,  1892. 

"  MONSIEUR  L'AMBASSADEUR, — In  a  letter  that  has  been 
made  public,  the  Marquis  de  Mores  declares  quite  positively 
that  you  have  exchanged  with  him  the  following  remarks  : 
'  We  do  not  know  in  Russia  with  whom  we  can  treat  here. 
The  greater  number  of  public  functionaries  and  officials  and 
the  whole  of  the  press  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Jews,  or  of  England. 
I  have  not  sufficient  money  to  be  able  to  fight  them, 
whilst  England  is  prodigal  with  hers.  Clemenceau  is  openly 
attacking,  in  the  corridors  of  the  Chamber,  the  alliance  with 
Russia ;  I  am  getting  very  uneasy,  the  more  so  that  I  do  not 
see  upon  whom  I  could  eventually  lean  in  case  of  necessity.' 

"  I  only  desire  to  notice  in  these  words  of  yours  the  part 
which  refers  to  myself. 

"  I  cannot  allow  you,  by  reason  of  your  official  position 
as  Ambassador,  to  attribute  to  me  publicly  language  of 
that  kind  without  declaring  to  you  that  you  have  been 
misinformed. 

"  When  the  Tsar  stood  up  to  listen  to  the  Marseillaise, 
I  was,  as  all  Frenchmen  were  too,  justly  proud  at  this  public 
homage  rendered  to  my  country.  Before  the  whole  of  Europe, 
looking  attentively  at  what  was  taking  place  on  that  day, 
the  French  nation  put  her  hand  loyally  into  the  hand  that 
had  stretched  itself  towards  her. 

"It  is  not  my  place  to  discuss  with  you,  Monsieur  PAm- 
bassadeur,  the  consequences  of  the  events  which  have  taken 
place  at  Cronstadt ;  all  that  I  can  say  is  that  no  one  desires 

280 


Two  Presidents 

more  ardently  than  I  do  that  these  might  prove  beneficial 
for  both  nations,  and  also  for  the  whole  of  Europe. 

"  Any  excesses  of  zeal  connected  with  such  a  noble  cause 
find  most  certainly  their  excuse  in  that  cause  itself.  It  is 
only  to  be  regretted  that  they  also  might  harm  it.  It  is  for 
that  very  reason,  I  do  not  doubt,  that  by  thinking  the  thing 
over  you  have  already  convinced  yourself  that  the  ancient 
precept  of  '  Ne  quid  mmis?  especially  when  such  important 
interests  are  at  stake,  is  an  excellent  safeguard. 

"  As  concerns  myself,  I  put  it  into  practice  to-day.  You 
are  our  honoured  guest,  Monsieur  PAmbassadeur ;  allow  me 
not  to  forget  it,  and  to  beg  of  you  to  accept  the  assurance 
of  my  most  respectful  feelings. 

"  (Signed)    GEORGES  CLEMENCEAU." 

This  letter  considerably  embarrassed  Baron  Mohrenheim, 
the  more  so  because  he  did  not  reply  to  it  immediately :  after 
it  had  been  published  by  the  Agence  Havas,  the  papers  took 
it  up,  and  different  reporters  called  upon  the  Russian  Am- 
bassador to  ask  him  for  explanations.  He  gave  them  but 
lamely,  thus  making  himself  more  ridiculous.  For  instance, 
he  declared  that  he  had  been  away  from  Paris  when  it  had 
been  brought  to  his  secretary,  Baron  Korff,  and  that  the 
latter  had  forgotten  to  deliver  it  to  him  immediately  upon 
his  return,  so  that  he  had  only  learned  its  contents  through 
the  press.  In  fact,  he  made  many  groundless  excuses  and 
only  added  to  the  embarrassment  of  the  position.  At  last 
on  the  I2th  of  September  the  Agence  Havas  published  the 
following  reply  from  the  Russian  Ambassador  to  the  leader 
of  the  Radical  party  in  the  Chamber: 

"  Paris,  September  izth,  1892. 

"  MONSIEUR  LE  DEPUTE, — The  Agence  Havas  publishes 
a  letter  which  you  have  been  kind  enough  to  address  to  me 

281 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

on  the  seventh  of  the  present  month.  On  that  day  I  was 
at  Aix-les-Bains,  which  I  left  on  the  next  day,  Thursday, 
to  return  to  Paris  only  yesterday,  Sunday. 

"  I  hasten  to  inform  you  that  your  letter  has  not  yet 
reached  me  to-day,  otherwise  you  may  rest  assured  that  I 
would  have  eagerly  taken  this  opportunity  to  express  to  you 
my  most  sincere  thanks  for  it. 

"  Nothing  could  have  afforded  me  greater  satisfaction 
than  to  be  able  to  convince  myself  thus  of  the  real  and 
frank  feelings  of  sympathy  which  you  express  to  me  for  my 
country,  and  to  read  about  the  good  wishes  which  you  add 
in  it  towards  the  prosperity  of  a  cause  common  to  us  both 
and  dear  to  us  both,  thus  doing  away  with  misunderstandings, 
and  making  them  henceforward  impossible.  As  you  express 
yourself,  Monsieur  le  Depute,  '  Ne  quid  nimis  '  ought  to  be 
the  motto  of  us  both,  and  as  you  may  well  believe,  I  have 
had  more  than  one  opportunity  to  remember  it  in  many 
circumstances  which  I  have  witnessed  during  the  long  years 
of  my  public  life,  a  life  that  has  always  been  devoted  to  the 
different  tasks  I  have  been  entrusted  with. 

"  Will  you  kindly  receive,  Monsieur  le  Depute,  the  assur- 
ance of  my  distinguished  and  devoted  consideration. 

"  (Signed)    BARON  DE  MOHRENHEIM." 

In  publishing  this  reply  of  the  Russian  Ambassador,  the 
Agence  Havas  added  that  M.  Clemenceau  had  hastened  to 
inform  it  that  his  letter  had  been  handed  over  to  the  secretary 
of  the  Baron,  M.  de  Korff,  on  September  8th,  who  had  given 
an  undertaking  that  he  should  deliver  it  personally  to  the 
Ambassador  immediately  upon  the  latter's  return  to  Paris. 
In  spite  of  the  frantic  efforts  made  by  the  Russian  and  French 
Governments  to  minimise  the  impression  produced  by  this 
correspondence,  the  prestige  of  M.  de  Mohrenheim  suffered 

282 


Two  Presidents 

considerably  from  its  publication,  and  he  had  perforce  to 
become  more  careful  in  the  future. 

But  he  was  not  removed  from  his  post.  Indeed,  it  very 
rarely  happens  that  a  Russian  official  is  obliged  to  retire 
into  private  life  by  reason  of  his  public  mistakes.  The  Rus- 
sians are  an  enduring  people.  The  Baron  was  to  witness 
many  other  triumphs,  especially  that  of  being  able  to  welcome 
Nicholas  II.  and  his  consort  in  Paris,  which  event  consider- 
ably added  to  his  personal  prestige,  and  also  to  his  personal 
advantages. 

To  return  to  M.  Felix  Faure,  he  went  on  quietly  pursuing 
the  course  he  had  embarked  upon,  and  preparing  the  ground 
for  the  great  things  which  he  felt  himself  called  upon  to  perform 
in  the  near  future.  He  was  so  sure  of  the  ultimate  success  of 
his  plans  that  he  began  to  make  ready  the  Elysee  for  the  glories 
that  awaited  it.  He  drew  largely  on  the  credits  put  at  his 
disposal  for  the  upkeep  of  the  palace,  he  tried  to  give  to  his 
household  the  appearance  of  a  real  Court  in  miniature,  to  train 
not  only  the  officers  and  civilians  attached  to  his  person  to 
perform  their  duties  according  to  the  old  etiquette  that  had 
prevailed  during  the  Monarchy,  but  also  to  put  his  servants, 
his  stables,  his  kitchens,  and  the  maintenance  of  the  state 
with  which  he  liked  to  surround  himself  on  the  footing  he 
considered  to  be  necessary  to  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  the 
Republic.  He  also — and  this  effort  is  perhaps  the  most 
meritorious  of  all  those  he  made  at  the  time — did  his  best 
to  assimilate  the  habits  and  customs  prevailing  in  the  higher 
classes  of  society,  and  he  succeeded  admirably  in  doing  so, 
helped  as  he  was  by  the  numerous  fair  ladies  at  whose  shrine 
he  worshipped. 

But  where  he  showed  the  greatest  tact  was  in  avoiding 
incidents  like  the  one  which  we  have  just  related  concerning 
M.  de  Mohrenheim.  Had  he  been  President  of  the  Republic 

283 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

at  the  time  it  occurred,  he  would  certainly  have  been  made 
aware  of  the  possibility,  or  rather  the  likelihood  of  its  happening, 
and  taken  measures  to  avoid  its  reaching  public  knowledge. 
The  alliance  with  Russia,  which  was  in  the  air  when  he  was 
elected  to  the  Presidency,  and  which  during  the  term  of  M. 
Carnot  had  been  started  in  a  preliminary  manner  by  certain 
influential  people,  was  in  part  his  personal  work.  I  have  said 
that  it  was  he  who  had  first  thought  of  sending  the  French 
fleet  to  Cronstadt.  He  was  at  that  time  only  a  minister,  and 
did  not  dream  of  ever  becoming  Head  of  the  State,  but  he  saw 
already  looming  in  the  distance  the  great  things  which  were 
bound  to  follow  for  France  in  the  event  of  the  public  recog- 
nition of  its  Republican  Government  by  the  most  powerful 
Monarch  of  Europe,  and  he  felt  that  something  of  the  glory 
of  such  an  event  was  bound  to  cling  to  his  own  humble  person, 
which  might,  thanks  to  this  circumstance,  come  forward 
more  brilliantly  than  he  could  have  hoped  for  when  he  first 
entered  public  life. 

He  was  to  reap  his  reward,  and  he  must  have  realised  it 
on  that  lovely  autumn  day  when  he  went  to  receive  Nicholas  II. 
and  his  Consort  at  the  railway  station  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
in  Paris.  As  he  drove  along,  sitting  opposite  to  them  in  the 
Daumont  with  outriders,  in  which  they  made  their  State 
entry  into  the  French  capital,  he  may  well  be  pardoned  if 
he  forgot  the  beginnings  of  his  political  career,  and  the  modest 
villa  where  his  early  days  had  been  spent  at  Havre.  Can 
one  wonder  if  he  lost  his  head  a  little,  in  the  presence  of  that 
unhoped  for  success,  and  that,  having  such  an  opportunity 
to  be  on  equal  footing  with  a  real  Sovereign,  he  forgot  some- 
times that  he  was  not  one  himself  ? 


284 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

IMPERIAL  AND  PRESIDENTIAL  VISITS 

M.  FELIX  FAURE  had  been  but  a  short  time  President  when 
the  Emperor  Alexander  III.  died  in  such  an  unexpected 
manner.  This  untoward  event  interfered  with  the  advances 
France  had  in  contemplation ;  indeed,  already  in  Paris  there 
had  been  talk  of  Russia  as  la  nation  amie  et  alliee.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  obsequies  of  the  Emperor  gave  the  French 
Government  an  opportunity  of  manifesting  its  sympathies 
with  Russia.  A  special  military  mission,  headed  by  General 
Boisdeffre,  at  that  time  head  of  the  General  Staff,  was  sent 
to  St.  Petersburg,  where  it  remained  until  the  marriage  of 
the  new  Tsar.  It  was  not  only  made  much  of  by  those  who 
favoured  a  rapprochement  with  France,  of  whom  there  were 
a  considerable  number  in  Russian  society,  but  thanks  to  the 
ability  of  the  French  Ambassador,  Comte  de  Montebello,  was 
also  brought  into  contact  with  leading  Russian  politicians. 
It  was  then  that  the  conditions  of  a  defensive  alliance  be- 
tween both  countries  came  under  serious  discussion.  The  new 
Emperor  showed  himself  unusually  gracious  to  all  the  members 
of  the  mission,  and  when  General  Boisdeffre  timidly  remarked 
that  the  President  of  the  Republic  would  be  envious  of  the 
honour  he  had  experienced  of  being  brought  into  personal 
contact  with  His  Majesty,  Nicholas  replied,  half  jokingly  and 
half  earnestly,  that  perhaps  he  would  pay  a  visit  to  the 
President  in  Paris,  which  city  he  had  a  great  desire  to 
see. 

285 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

These  words  raised  roseate  anticipations  at  the  time,  and 
later  on  were  seized  upon  by  the  French  Government  and 
construed  into  a  promise  made  by  the  Emperor  Nicholas  II. 
to  visit  M.  Felix  Faure,  then  President  of  France.  Nor  was 
the  Emperor  allowed  to  forget.  General  Boisdeffre  returned 
to  Russia  some  sixteen  months  later  for  the  Coronation  of 
the  Tsar,  and  there,  together  with  Comte  de  Montebello, 
had  many  serious  conversations  with  Prince  Lobanoff,  the 
Russian  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  and  with  General  Obrout- 
scheff,  then  head  of  the  Russian  General  Staff,  who,  being 
married  to  a  Frenchwoman,  was  one  of  the  staunchest  sup- 
porters of  an  alliance  with  France.  As  a  direct  result  of  these 
interviews,  Nicholas  II.  was  induced  to  promise  that  his  visits 
to  European  Courts  on  the  occasion  of  his  accession  to  the 
throne  would  include  one  to  Paris. 

When  the  news  became  official,  the  enthusiasm  it  excited 
among  all  classes  in  France  was  absolutely  indescribable. 
I  remember  that  one  morning,  as  I  was  walking  down  the 
Champs  Elysees,  I  saw  two  workmen,  who  were  mending 
one  of  the  lanterns  of  the  Avenue,  eagerly  scanning  a  news- 
paper with  a  portrait  of  the  Tsar,  and  heard  one  say  to  the 
other,  "  C'est  celui-la  qui  va  nous  debarrasser  des  Prus- 
siens"  ("He  is  the  man  who  will  rid  us  of  the  Prussians"). 
The  whole  nation  saw  itself  once  more  in  possession  of  Alsace 
and  Lorraine,  and  never  thought  about  the  impending 
Imperial  visit  as  anything  else  than  the  first  step  towards 
that  consummation. 

In  Russia,  however,  we  did  not  care  for  it  at  all.  It  seemed 
humiliating  to  our  national  pride  that  our  Sovereign  should 
make  the  first  advances  to  a  country  the  government  of  which 
represented  everything  that  was  antipathetic  to  an  autocracy 
like  ours.  When  I  say  "  we,"  I  am  talking  of  the  saner  elements 
of  our  country.  In  Russia,  as  well  as  in  France,  the  anti- 

286 


Imperial  and  Presidential  Visits 

German  elements  hailed  the  situation  with  joy,  and  hoped 
great  things  from  a  closer  union  of  the  two  nations. 

The  Emperor  on  his  side  could  not  but  feel  flattered  at 
the  shower  of  praise  and  compliments  that  fell  from  the 
French  nation  and  the  French  press.  It  tickled  his  fancy  to 
be  received  in  triumph  in  the  capital  of  a  Republican  country, 
and  to  find  prostrate  at  his  feet  its  most  rabid  Radicals. 
He  did  not  see,  or  did  not  care  to  see,  the  undercurrents  that 
actuated  this  enthusiasm ;  besides,  Russia  wanted  a  loan,  and 
wanted  it  under  favourable  conditions.  The  presence  of  the 
Tsar  in  Paris  ensured  the  success  of  such  an  operation,  and, 
as  Henri  IV.  said,  "  Paris  vaut  bien  une  messe." 

It  is  to  be  questioned  which  of  the  two  countries  indulged 
most  in  platitudes  on  this  memorable  occasion.  France,  at 
least,  was  actuated  by  the  legitimate  desire  to  recover  her 
lost  provinces,  and  she  may  well  be  forgiven  if  she  allowed 
herself  to  be  carried  away  beyond  the  limits  of  that  courtesy 
which  a  great  nation  is  bound  to  show  to  any  foreign  Sovereign 

who  honours  it  with  a  visit.  But  Russia Was  it 

worthy  of  her,  was  it  dignified  on  the  part  of  the  Monarch  so 
to  stoop  in  order  to  get  the  money  she  wanted  without 
the  least  intention  to  hold  to  the  other  side  of  the  bargain, 
or  to  run  into  a  war  with  Germany  in  order  to  gratify  the 
feelings  of  revenge  which  animated  the  French  nation  ? 

Paris  had  turned  out  en  masse  to  see  the  royal  entry. 
It  was  a  little  after  ten  o'clock  when  the  report  of  the  guns 
of  Mont  Valerien  announced  the  arrival  of  the  Imperial  train 
at  the  Ranelagh  station.  Immediately  the  crowd  began  to 
cheer,  long  before  they  caught  sight  of  the  troops  which 
escorted  the  carriage  in  which  the  Emperor  and  Empress, 
with  the  President,  were  driving.  The  French  Government 
had  chosen  these  troops  with  great  care,  and  given  the  prefer- 
ence to  the  Spahis  and  Arabs  from  Algeria,  whose  picturesque 

287 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

costumes  and  white  burnouses  added  to  the  general  splendour 
of  the  brilliant  scene. 

It  was  an  event  without  precedent,  this  recognition  by 
the  only  autocratic  Monarch  left  in  Europe,  of  a  Republic  from 
which  hitherto  foreign  Sovereigns  had  more  or  less  held  aloof. 
It  was  bound  to  create  a  deep  sensation,  not  only  in  France, 
but  throughout  the  world  ;  and  its  consequences  promised 
at  that  moment  to  become  stupendous.  In  reality  they  were 
absolutely  insignificant,  and  France  certainly  played  the  part 
of  the  dupe  in  this  queer  comedy. 

But  it  was  not  of  this  that  Paris  was  thinking  as  it  welcomed 
its  Russian  ally.  When  the  mob  saw  the  Empress,  pale  and 
lovely,  in  her  white  dress,  with  an  immense  bouquet  of  flowers 
reposing  in  her  lap,  as  she  sat  beside  her  Consort,  who  wore 
the  dark  green  tunic  of  the  Preobragensky  Regiment,  with  the 
red  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  across  his  breast,  its  joy 
overstepped  all  bounds ;  it  was  more  like  a  delirium  of  mad 
enthusiasm  than  anything  else.  But  it  was  in  the  Place  de 
la  Concorde  that  the  manifestations  became  quite  grandiose. 
And  I  must  say  that  of  all  the  popular  demonstrations  I  have 
ever  witnessed  it  was  the  most  imposing.  Row  upon  row  of 
human  beings  were  massed  like  shots  in  a  cartridge,  which 
seemed  suddenly  on  the  passage  of  the  Imperial  carriage 
to  explode  into  one  single  shout,  whilst  opposite,  under  the 
waving  flags  and  banners  on  the  terrace  of  the  Tuileries,  long 
lines  of  officers  in  uniform  stood  looking  on  the  scene  over 
the  heads  of  the  crowd.  The  statues  were  covered  with 
human  beings,  boys  and  men  who  had  climbed  upon  them  to 
have  a  better  view  of  the  procession. 

Only  one,  that  of  the  town  of  Strasburg,  was  undecorated, 
and  its  bareness  seemed  more  than  suggestive  to  the  impartial 
spectator.  When  M.  Felix  Faure  pointed  it  out  to  the  Em- 
peror the  acclamations  of  the  mob  became  deafening.  It 

288 


Imperial  and  Presidential  Visits 

was  a  triumph  indeed,  and  if  you  had  asked  any  one  of  these 
people  why  they  were  howling  away  their  enthusiasm  and 
joy,  they  would  each  and  all  have  replied  that  it  meant  "  Une 
Alsace  Fran?aise,"  and  that  by  his  visit  to  Paris  Nicholas  II. 
was  tacitly  promising  it  to  the  French  people. 

The  only  one  who  appeared  unconscious  of  the  significance 
attributed  to  his  visit  was  the  Emperor  himself.  Perhaps  he 
knew  that  whatever  people  might  think,  he  was  not  going 
to  risk  the  life  of  even  one  of  his  soldiers  in  order  to  gratify 
the  wild  hatred  of  France  against  his  German  neighbours; 
perhaps,  also,  he  was  merely  amused  by  the  bright  scene 
that  stretched  itself  before  his  eyes ;  or,  maybe,  he  was 
thinking  that  it  would  have  been  a  good  thing  had  his  own 
subjects  showed  such  demonstrative  joy  whenever  he  showed 
himself  in  the  streets  of  his  own  capital.  It  was  something 
new  to  him  to  see  the  whole  population  of  a  great  city  let 
loose  without  police  surveillance — at  least,  none  that  was 
apparent ;  a  vast  multitude  who  seemed  only  eager  to  catch 
one  of  his  smiles. 

Later  on,  however,  a  few  discordant  notes  were  heard,  even 
before  the  Tsar  had  left  Paris.  For  one  thing,  the  most  rabid 
Radicals  reproached  Nicholas  with  having  called  personally  on 
M.  Loubet,  President  of  the  Senate,  and  M.  Brisson,  President 
of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  These  visits  were  not  in  the 
programme  of  the  journey,  and  people  said  that  by  making 
them  the  Emperor  was  identifying  himself  with  the  political 
opinions  of  these  personages,  which  were  held  in  suspicion 
by  the  Socialists,  who  had  already  become  very  powerful  at 
that  time. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Conservatives  were  quite  indignant 

to  hear  that   at   the  reception  given  in  his  honour  at  the 

Hotel  de  Ville,  Nicholas  II.  had  cordially  shaken  by  the  hand 

a  municipal  councillor,  who  in  long  bygone  days  had  made 

T  289 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

himself  conspicuous  by  sending  an  address  of  congratulation 
to  Hartmann,  one  of  the  assassins  of  Alexander  II. 

Then,  to  crown  all,  the  leaders  of  French  society  and 
of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  who  had  been  invited  to  meet 
the  Russian  Sovereigns  at  a  lunch  given  by  Baron  and 
Baroness  de  Mohrenheim,  felt  sadly  chagrined  that  neither  the 
Emperor  nor  the  Empress  had  thought  fit  to  address  a  single 
word  to  any  of  them,  though  there  were  present  such  great 
ladies  as  the  Duchesse  d'Uzes,  the  Duchesse  de  Luynes,  and 
Madame  Aimery  de  la  Rochefoucauld. 

But  all  these  criticisms  proceeded  from  the  few.  The 
many  and  the  masses  felt  more  than  gratified  at  the  unexpected 
honour  which  had  fallen  upon  France.  The  enthusiasm  was 
especially  great  after  the  toasts  exchanged  at  Chalons  between 
the  Tsar  and  the  French  President,  and  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
illusions  which  at  that  particular  moment  seized  the  whole 
French  nation,  with  but  very  few  exceptions,  I  will  reproduce 
here  a  letter  which  I  received  one  or  two  days  after  the 
departure  of  the  Russian  visitors  from  a  political  man  who, 
by  virtue  of  his  official  position,  ought  to  have  been  able  to 
judge  of  the  consequences  which  this  effervescence  of  the  French 
public  mind  might  have  in  the  future,  and  which  proves  under 
what  strange  misconceptions  some  people  were  labouring : 

"  I  am  not  at  all  of  your  opinion  when  you  tell  me  that 
you  deplore  the  facility  with  which  the  French  nation  has 
prostrated  itself  at  the  feet  of  the  Cossack.  What  wind 
coming  from  the  perfidious  shores  of  Albion  could  have  made 
you  say  such  a  thing  ?  First  of  all,  he  is  not  a  Cossack, 
this  young  Emperor  of  yours.  On  the  contrary,  he  produces, 
together  with  his  fair  Egeria,  an  immense  impression  of  great- 
ness, seen,  as  he  has  been  here,  in  the  full  sunlight  of  our 
intensive  French  civilisation,  with  his  little  girl  in  the  back- 
ground. As  for  the  French  crowds,  they  haven't,  believe  me, 

290 


Imperial  and  Presidential  Visits 

prostrated  themselves  before  him  ;  they  have  only  exchanged 
a  long  and  passionate  embrace  with  Russia ;  that  is,  with  a 
Europe  independent  of  the  Prussian  Empire.  In  this  triumphal 
march  of  an  Imperator  towards  our  pseudo-Republican 
capital,  the  oldest  and  most  experienced  crowned  foxes  the 
world  has  ever  seen  have  found  their  Tarpeian  rock.  Your 
young  Imperial  ephebe  has  emerged  out  of  it  admirably. 
Nothing  that  he  has  done  has  been  out  of  place  ;  he  has  shown 
simplicity,  cordiality,  good  taste,  tact,  and  everything,  in 
short,  that  he  ought  to  have  done,  without  one  single  false 
note  to  mar  the  concert.  In  his  place,  William  II.  would  only 
have  shown  the  weight  of  his  sword  and  invited  us  to  test 
it.  Nicholas  II.  is  above  all  this,  and  has  proved  himself 
of  stronger  stuff.  It  is  because,  in  the  present  case,  the 
comedians,  who  generally  act  in  presence  of  Her  Majesty 
Humanity,  are  put  to  shame  by  another  and  newer  spectacle, 
which  is  far  more  powerful  than  the  old  scene  upon  which 
they  had  been  used  to  play  since  time  immemorial. 

"  In  spite  of  everything,  real  life  will  overthrow  the  false 
limits  into  which  one  has  tried  to  confine  it,  and  the  Treaty 
of  Frankfurt  will  share  the  fate  of  those  of  Paris  in 
1815  and  of  Westphalia.  It  was  only  real  life  that  could 
have  been  strong  enough  to  accomplish  this  superb  effort,  and 
to  set  itself  up  on  the  ruins  of  that  old  mischievous  diplomacy 
which  has  produced  that  snake  with  three  heads  called  the 
Triple  Alliance. 

"Only  two  nations  could  possibly  have  performed  this 
miracle,  and  could  have  risen  against  the  slavery  in  which, 
until  now,  Europe  has  been  held  in  the  bondage  of  the  infernal 
policy  of  Prince  Bismarck.  He  is  the  only  real  Cossack  in 
the  sense  we  generally  attribute  to  that  word,  the  Cossack 
before  whom  France,  even  when  he  vanquished  her,  has 
refused  to  prostrate  herself,  and  against  whom  she  has  risen 

291 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

with  sufficient  courage  and  sufficient  strength  to  deliver 
from  his  yoke  both  Russia  and  the  dynasty  of  Romanoff, 
and  to  snatch  it  from  the  sphere  of  Prussian  influence.  Our 
two  nations  have  married  each  other  without  the  help  of  any 
notary,  and  without  the  need  for  any  written  treaty,  and  their 
union  means  peace,  real  peace,  against  general  war  which 
Bismarck  wanted  to  transform  into  a  status  quo.  This  is 
civilisation  in  the  highest  sense,  and  Europe  owes  it  not 
to  the  fact  that  France  has  prostrated  herself  before  Russia, 
but  to  the  energetic  manner  in  which  the  former  has  tried 
and  succeeded  in  establishing  its  military  strength,  and  re- 
deeming its  lost  military  prestige." 

I  have  transcribed  this  curious  letter  in  its  entirety,  as 
it  can  give,  better  than  anything  else,  an  idea  as  to  the  state 
of  feeling  which  was  prevailing  in  Paris  in  the  autumn  of 
the  year  1896,  when,  for  the  first  time  since  the  fall  of  the 
Empire  of  the  Napoleons,  a  foreign  monarch  was  officially 
received  with  enthusiastic  welcome  within  the  doors  of  the 
capital.  The  enthusiasm  was  as  false  as  the  visit  itself,  but 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  it  gave  greater  stability  to  the 
Republic  and  considerably  discouraged  its  enemies. 

Nevertheless,  nearly  a  whole  year  passed  before  M.  Faure 
returned  this  memorable  visit,  and  accomplished  his  passionate 
desire  by  being  welcomed  on  Russian  shores  in  his  capacity 
of  head  of  the  French  Republic.  He  arrived  at  Peterhof  on  a 
French  man-of-war,  escorted  by  a  numerous  and  powerful 
squadron,  and  was  received  with  a  cordiality  that  must  have 
considerably  increased  any  illusions  he  may  have  had  concerning 
the  sincerity  of  the  Russian  alliance.  St.  Petersburg  showed 
unusual  enthusiasm,  and  the  Imperial  family  treated  him 
with  a  familiarity  that  must  have  ravished  his  parvenu  heart. 
As  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  friends  in  Paris,  he  held  on  his  knees 
the  little  Grand  Duchess  Olga,  to  whom  he  had  brought  the 

292 


Imperial  and  Presidential  Visits 

most  splendid  present  of  dolls  any  Imperial  child  ever  received, 
and  the  fact  of  having  thus  nursed  in  his  arms  the  youngest 
member  of  the  Romanoff  family  evidently  appealed  to  his 
feelings.  He  began  to  think  himself  equal  to  all  these  crowned 
heads  with  whom  he  found  himself  so  unexpectedly  thrown 
into  contact,  and  to  believe  himself  the  real  Sovereign  of 
France. 

It  was  dating  from  this  famous  visit  that  M.  Faure  assumed 
the  semi-royal  manners  which  considerably  displeased  many 
of  his  former  friends,  and  caused  him  to  be  ridiculed  more 
than  he  deserved  in  the  popular  cafes  chantants  of  Paris.  And, 
strange  though  it  may  appear,  the  real  popularity  which  M. 
Faure  had  enjoyed  until  the  period  of  his  return  from  Russia 
began  to  wane.  The  public  reproached  him  for  not  having 
made  the  most  of  his  opportunities  and  for  having  forgotten, 
in  his  childish  joy  at  the  grandeur  and  magnificence  of  the 
reception  awarded  to  him,  the  real  object  of  his  visit.  Dis- 
appointment at  the  failure  to  convince  Nicholas  II.  of  the 
necessity  of  immediately  declaring  war  on  Germany  began 
to  make  itself  felt  among  the  French  nation,  and,  little  by 
little,  both  the  influence  of  M.  Faure  and  the  sympathy  for 
Russia  began  to  disappear  among  the  public,  which  realised 
that  all  the  fuss  proceeded  from  the  simple  desire  on  the 
part  of  Russia  to  get  the  money  she  wanted  at  a  cheap  rate. 

I  had  been  away  on  leave  for  a  few  months  when  I  returned 
to  France,  and  on  the  very  day  I  reached  Paris  I  happened 
to  meet  the  person  from  whom  I  had  received  a  year  before 
the  letter  which  I  have  reproduced.  I  could  not  help  asking 
him  whether  he  still  was  of  the  opinion  which  he  had  professed 
when  he  had  written  to  me  that  enthusiastic  anticipation  of 
the  establishment  of  a  solid  alliance  between  France  and 
Russia  for  the  special  purpose  of  a  joint  attack  against  Germany. 

I  found  him  furious  against  M.  Faure,  to  whom  he  attri- 

293 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

buted  the  delay.  Another  President,  he  asserted,  would  have 
laid  down  positive  conditions  before  he  had  consented  to  pay 
a  visit  to  Peterhof,  and  made  it  subservient  to  a  promise  of 
immediately  beginning  hostilities  against  Germany.  When  I 
objected  that,  in  common  courtesy,  M.  Faure  could  not  have 
excused  himself  from  accepting  the  invitation  that  he  had 
received  personally  from  the  Russian  Emperor,  my  friend 
replied  in  those  characteristic  words  :  "  Je  ne  vois  pas  la 
necessite  de  cela,  au  contraire,  M.  Faure  aurait  souligne  la 
dignite  de  la  France,  en  prouvant  qu'elle  ne  se  derange  pas 
pour  rien  "  ("  I  do  not  see  the  necessity  for  it ;  on  the  contrary, 
M.  Faure  would  have  given  a  proof  of  the  dignity  which  pre- 
vails in  France  if  he  had  shown  that  she  does  not  put  herself 
out  for  nothing  "). 

This  phrase,  coming  as  it  did  from  a  man  who  was  at 
the  period  playing  an  important  part  in  French  politics,  will 
give  an  idea  as  to  the  opinions  which  began  to  prevail  against 
M  Faure. 

The  Dreyfus  affair,  which  began  at  that  period,  intensified 
it.  He  did  not,  however,  live  to  realise  this.  He  seriously 
believed  himself  to  be  the  right  man  in  the  right  place,  which, 
in  a  certain  sense,  he  was,  because  of  all  the  Presidents  who 
have  held  office  during  the  forty  odd  years  of  the  existence  of 
the  Third  Republic  in  France,  he  was,  perhaps,  the  only  one 
that  contrived  to  give  it  the  illusion  of  a  monarchy. 

A  great  deal  has  been  written  concerning  the  sudden  death 
of  M.  Felix  Faure.  It  is  unfortunately  certain  that  it  took 
place  under  much  to  be  deplored  circumstances.  It  is  also 
certain  that  the  manner  of  his  death  has  thrown  upon  his 
memory  an  unpleasant  shade. 

Alas  !  alas  !  poor  Yorick.  In  a  Republican  country  the 
abuses  of  monarchy  can  but  too  often  be  met  with,  and  in 
the  case  of  M.  Felix  Faure  these  came  very  prominently  to 

294 


Imperial  and  Presidential  Visits 

the  front.  He  played  at  being  a  small  King,  even  so  far  as  to 
allow,  in  a  Republican  country,  the  establishment  of  the  old 
custom  of  there  being  always  "  une  favorite  de  roi "  at  his 
side. 

But  I  must  say,  once  I  am  touching  on  that  subject,  that 
I  do  not  believe  for  a  moment  the  assertions  of  the  lady  in 
question,  that  M.  Faure  used  to  consult  her  in  political  matters, 
and  that  she  had  great  influence  over  him  in  that  respect. 
M.  Faure  was  an  exceedingly  shrewd  politician,  and  knew  per- 
fectly well  what  he  was  about.  He  was  also  perfectly  aware 
that  he  had  numerous  enemies  who,  if  they  had  been  able 
once  to  prove  that  he  was  confiding  gravest  matters  of  State 
to  the  discretion  of  another,  would  not  have  hesitated 
to  make  use  of  this  fact  to  overthrow  him,  or  at  least  to  put 
him  in  such  a  position  that  he  would  have  been  obliged  to 
send  in  his  resignation.  And  M.  Faure  cared  for  his  position 
as  President  of  the  French  Republic,  and  would  not  have 
jeopardised  it  for  anything  in  the  world,  least  of  all  for  a 
woman. 

Perhaps  it  was  as  well  for  his  own  sake  that  death  removed 
him  from  the  political  scene  before  the  curtain  fell  on  the 
final  act  in  the  Dreyfus  drama.  What  he  would  have  done 
had  he  seen  all  that  ensued  after  the  discovery  of  the  forgery 
of  Colonel  Henry,  the  knowledge  of  which  made  him  so  un- 
happy, and  after  the  second  condemnation  of  Captain  Dreyfus 
at  Rennes,  it  is  difficult  to  say.  Those  who  have  known 
him  well,  told  me  that  he  had  been  very  much  troubled  at 
the  development  this  miserable  business  took  so  unexpectedly, 
and  that  he  often  regretted  that  he  had  not  interfered  and 
pardoned  Dreyfus  at  the  time  of  his  first  condemnation. 

It  seems  that  he  had  been  very  much  tempted  to  do  so, 
having  always  had  some  doubts  in  his  own  mind  as  to  the 
Captain's  culpability,  but  the  President  was  also  aware  that 

295 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

his  own  popularity  was  on  the  wane,  and  that  voices  had 
already  accused  him  of  trying  to  make  up  to  the  German 
Emperor. 

This  last  fact  deserves  a  few  words  of  explanation.  Some 
enemies  of  M.  Faure  had  spread  the  gossip  that  his  St.  Peters- 
burg laurels  had  not  been  sufficient  for  his  inordinate  vanity, 
and  that  as,  in  spite  of  all  his  conversations  with  Nicholas  II. 
he  had  not  succeeded  in  inducing  the  latter  to  consent  to 
the  adoption  by  Russia  of  an  aggressive  policy  against  Germany, 
he  had  tried  to  bring  about  some  kind  of  arrangement  with 
the  German  Emperor,  and  to  persuade  him  to  grant  autonomy 
to  Alsace  and  Lorraine.  He  knew  that  such  a  measure  would 
have  largely  satisfied  a  certain  section  of  public  opinion  in 
France.  Serious  politicians,  however,  knew  very  well  that 
it  was  useless  to  hope  that  Germany  would  return  without 
another  war,  and  perhaps  not  even  then,  the  provinces  she  had 
conquered  at  the  cost  of  such  stupendous  sacrifices. 

Whether  M.  Felix  Faure  ever  nursed  such  a  dream,  it  is 
difficult  to  say,  but  it  was  attributed  to  him,  and  for  an  excitable 
people  like  the  French  such  a  rumour  was  sufficient  to  set  the 
tide  against  the  President.  Had  he  at  that  juncture  pardoned 
Captain  Dreyfus  the  outcry  would  have  been  immense,  and 
the  word  traitor  would  undoubtedly  have  been  applied  to 
him.  He  knew  it  well,  and  perhaps  this  made  him  keep 
more  aloof  than  he  ought  to  have  done  from  the  net  of 
intrigues  which  surrounded  the  tragedy  of  the  Hebrew  officer 
who  was  to  draw  on  his  person  the  attention  of  the  whole 
world.  But  it  is  also  to  be  regretted,  perhaps,  that  the 
President  found  himself  with  his  hands  tied  on  this  memorable 
occasion,  and  that  in  his  dread  of  losing  his  position  he  forgot 
his  constitutional  prerogatives. 


296 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  FRENCH  PRESS 

IN  the  visit  of  Nicholas  II.  to  Paris  the  press  played  a  con- 
siderable part.  Indeed  in  no  country  of  the  world  do  news- 
papers wield  such  an  influence  as  they  do  in  France,  where 
the  bourgeois,  the  workman,  and  the  peasant  believe  implicitly 
in  what  the  papers  say,  especially  if  their  particular  news-sheet 
has  the  chauvinistic  opinions  which  they  themselves  espouse. 
It  would  hardly  have  been  possible  to  organise  the  magnificent 
reception  which  was  awarded  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia  if 
newspapers  of  all  shades  had  not  contributed  to  it  their 
long  articles  written  in  praise  of  the  future  visitor  and  in 
general  of  the  Russian  nation  and  the  Russian  army.  These 
were  material  factors  in  securing  the  popular  demonstration 
that  took  place.  Thanks  to  them  the  Russian  loans  were 
covered  several  times  over,  and  Russian  policy,  be  it  in  the 
East  or  elsewhere,  was  warmly  supported  by  the  powers  that 
ruled  at  the  Quai  d'Orsay. 

The  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  at  that  time  was  M. 
Gabriel  Hanotaux,  himself  a  writer  of  no  mean  talent,  and 
a  journalist  in  his  spare  moments.  A  few  years  later  he  was 
to  be  elected  to  the  Academy  for  his  fine  work  on  the  life  of 
Cardinal  Richelieu.  M.  Hanotaux  was  an  excessively  shrewd 
man,  and  moreover  one  who  had  a  vast  knowledge  of  the 
world ;  he  understood  better  than  anyone  else  the  use  to 
which  the  press,  and  especially  the  daily  press,  can  be  put. 
He  organised  a  special  service  which  kept  the  whole  of  France 

297 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

informed  as  to  the  doings  and  sayings  of  the  Russian  Sovereigns, 
and  was  clever  enough  to  give  a  spontaneous  character  to  the 
vast  manifestation  of  sympathy  which  threw  France  into- 
the  arms  of  Russia. 

I  don't  remember  now  who  said,  very  wittily  one  must 
admit,  that  "  each  country  and  each  epoch  has  the  press 
which  it  deserves."  That  phrase  is  far  from  being  the  paradox 
it  seems,  because  it  is  an  undeniable  fact,  and  particularly 
so  in  France,  that  though  the  press  leads  public  opinion,  yet 
it  is  public  opinion  which  leads  the  press  into  the  road  where 
its  instincts — political  or  financial — tell  it  to  go.  And  in 
the  last  twenty-five  years  the  French,  and  especially  the 
Parisian,  press  has  undergone  a  total  transformation.  It 
is  no  longer  what  it  was  in  the  time  of  the  Second  Empire, 
when  the  restraining  hand  of  the  government  was  always 
more  or  less  over  its  head.  At  present  independence  reigns 
among  the  papers  that  rule  the  boulevards,  though  this  doer 
not  prevent  the  principal  among  them  from  accepting  the 
inspirations  which  come  either  from  the  Quai  d'Orsay  or  from 
the  Place  Beauveau.  In  the  latter  place,  journalists  had  a 
good  time  of  it  during  the  few  months  when  M.  Clemenceau, 
the  most  brilliant  among  them,  reigned  as  its  master,  and  did 
not  disdain  to  communicate  to  the  press  his  views  and  his 
opinions  on  one  or  other  of  the  questions  of  the  day.  The 
Matin,  the  Journal,  the  Debats,  and  especially  the  Temps, 
like  to  entertain  their  readers  in  an  atmosphere  favourable 
to  the  ministry  which  happens  to  be  in  power.  The  last- 
named  paper  has  upon  its  staff  men  of  the  rarest  literary 
merit,  among  others  M.  Tardieu,  who  writes  the  leaders  on 
foreign  affairs  and  of  whom  Prince  von  Billow  once  said  jok- 
ingly that  there  "  existed  in  Europe  three  great  Powers 
and — M.  Tardieu." 

That  opinion  had  been  endorsed  long  before  it  was  uttered 

298 


The  French  Press 

by  M.  Adrian  Hebrard,  the  greatest  journalist  that  France 
can  boast,  and  of  whom  she  can  justly  be  proud.  M.  Hebrard, 
if  he  had  only  wished  it,  might  have  become  an  important 
political  personage,  a  minister,  a  member  of  the  French 
Academy,  but  to  all  these  glories  he  preferred  the  editorship 
of  the  Temps. 

The  paper  is  Republican  in  its  opinions,  with  sometimes 
a  leaning  towards  Radicalism,  and  stronger  leanings  still 
towards  anti-Clericalism.  At  the  same  time,  it  has  con- 
stantly displayed  coolness  in  its  judgments,  and  has  always 
abstained  from  exaggerations  either  in  one  sense  or  the  other 
It  has  never  failed  in  courtesy  towards  its  antagonists,  and 
has  made  itself  respected,  even  when  it  has  caused  itself 
to  be  disliked.  Everyone  in  political  or  social  circles  reads 
it  with  interest,  and  very  often  the  news  which  it  gives  en 
derniere  heure,  as  it  is  called,  has  a  European  importance, 
and  is  cabled  all  over  the  world.  Its  chronicles  also  are 
something  more  than  those  of  other  papers,  and  its  dramatic 
weekly  letter  decides  the  success  or  failure  of  every  new 
theatrical  piece  which  sees  the  footlights  of  the  principal 
Paris  theatres. 

Another  serious  paper,  whose  importance  is  almost  as 
great  as  that  of  the  Temps,  is  the  old  Journal  des  Debats, 
which  is  considered  the  organ  of  the  Academy,  and  which 
certainly  has  always  the  last  word  to  say  concerning  its 
elections. 

In  the  Debats  correct  polished  French  is  always  to  be 
found.  It  is  grave,  pompous,  essentially  bourgeois  in  its 
opinions,  and  is  not  read  by  the  multitude. 

The  three  great  organs  that  have  acquired  front-rank 
importance  are  certainly  the  Matin,  the  Journal,  its  rival 
in  everything,  even  in  impudence,  and  the  Petit  Parisien. 
You  will  find  many  people  in  Paris  who  do  not  know  the 

299 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Temps,  except  that  they  have  seen  it  in  the  newspaper  kiosks, 
you  will  find  a  great  many  more  who  do  not  know  even 
that  much  about  the  Debats,  but  you  will  never  come  across 
any  man  or  woman,  to  begin  with  your  concierge,  and  to  end 
with  the  foremost  politician  in  the  Chamber,  who  does  not 
know  the  Matin  and  its  chief  editor  and  proprietor,  M.  Alfred 
Edwards,  of  Lanthelme  fame.  In  the  opinion  of  many  the 
Matin  is  not  a  credit  to  French  journalism. 

More  popular  even  than  the  Matin  are  the  Journal  and  the 
Petit  Parisien,  whose  proprietor,  M.  Jean  Dupuy,  has  already 
been  several  times  entrusted  with  a  ministerial  portfolio, 
and  is  a  member  of  the  Senate,  where  his  opinion  is  always 
listened  to  with  attention.  The  Petit  Parisien  has  many 
editions,  and  is  extensively  read  in  the  provinces.  It  instils 
into  millions  of  people  the  Radical  opinions  which  it  pro- 
fesses. 

One  of  the  reasons  why  everybody  who  can  wield  a  pen 
in  France  turns  to  journalism  nowadays  lies  in  this  know- 
ledge that  it  leads  to  anything  one  likes — and  principally 
to  politics,  after  which  every  Frenchman  craves.  In  olden 
times  every  young  man  wanted  to  become  a  member  of  the 
Bar,  persuaded  that  the  Bar  alone  could  lead  him  to  the 
Chamber  and  thence  to  become  a  member  of  the  government. 
At  present  journalists  have  it  all  their  own  way.  I  won't 
pretend  to  say  that  the  change  is  by  any  means  to 
advantage. 

The  general  tone  of  the  press  lacks  sadly  of  sympathy. 
Journalists  like  M.  Hebrard  become  rarer  and  rarer  every 
day.  The  press  is  no  longer  a  tribune,  it  is  something  like 
the  servants'  hall  of  political  life,  and  though  its  successes 
are  greater  than  they  have  ever  been  they  are  not  lasting, 
and  they  are  forgotten  the  very  next  hour  after  they  have 
reached  their  culminating  height. 

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Politics,  thanks  to  this  degeneration,  have  become  a 
hurried,  feverish  occupation,  are  more  talked  about  than  dis- 
cussed, more  felt  than  acted  upon.  Ministries,  too,  change 
far  too  often  for  France  to  work  out  her  regeneration  with 
anything  like  stability,  and  at  present  she  is  obliged  to  lean 
upon  Russia,  because  only  in  so  doing  can  she  have  any  hope 
of  remaining  a  Great  Power. 

There  are,  however,  a  few  great  journalists  left  on  the 
banks  of  the  Seine,  and  I  am  sure  that  no  one  will  contradict 
me  when  I  say  that  one  of  the  first  places  among  the  few 
is  occupied  by  that  remarkable  man,  Arthur  Meyer,  the  son 
of  a  Jewish  tailor  and  the  grandson  of  a  rabbi,  who  by  a 
strange  freak  of  destiny  has  become  the  most  fervent  supporter 
of  both  Monarchy  and  Catholicism.  He  was  associated  with 
Boulanger  and  also  with  that  most  ardent  of  anti-Semites, 
Edouard  Drumont,  and,  after  having  become  the  friend, 
adviser,  and  counsellor  of  the  Comte  de  Paris,  who  had  re- 
placed Napoleon  III.  in  his  affections,  succeeded  in  being 
admitted  into  the  intimacy  of  the  Duchesse  d'Uzes  and  the 
noblest  great  ladies  of  the  noble  Faubourg,  where  at  last 
he  found  himself  a  wife  in  the  person  of  the  charming  but 
dowerless  daughter  of  the  Comte  and  Comtesse  de  Turenne. 

Such  a  career  is  one  of  the  most  curious  products  of  our 
times,  and  stranger  still  than  its  success  is  the  fact  that  no 
one,  save  a  few  bad  tempered  people  whose  opinions  do 
not  count  and  to  whom  no  one  listens,  has  ever  expressed 
the  least  astonishment  at  its  development.  Paris  has  ac- 
cepted M.  Arthur  Meyer  just  as  it  accepted  the  Republic 
and  the  institution  of  the  Concours  Hippique  ;  and  Parisian 
society  has  acquired  the  habit  of  turning  to  him  not  only 
for  news  but  also  for  the  manner  in  which  it  ought  to  be  re- 
ceived. He  has  become  an  oracle  among  certain  circles,  and 
his  whiskers,  his  ties,  and  the  shape  and  cut  of  his  clothes 

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are  copied  not  only  by  fashionable  men  but  also  by  fashion- 
able tailors.  The  morning  coat  of  M.  Meyer  has  replaced 
the  frock  coat  of  the  Prince  de  Sagan  and  the  dinner-jacket 
of  King  Edward  VII. 

I  quoted  at  the  beginning  the  remark  that  every  country 
has  the  press  which  it  deserves.  I  can  complete  it  by  saying 
that  every  society  has  the  leader  that  it  merits.  And  Parisian 
fashionable  circles  can  boast  of  having  kept  M.  Arthur  Meyer, 
though  circumstances  compelled  it  to  lose  Count  Boni  de 
Castellane. 

I  have  mentioned  the  marriage  of  this  favourite  of  the 
gods.  People  wondered  at  it  excessively,  but  it  would  be 
extremely  unfair  to  M.  Meyer  not  to  maintain  that  he  decided 
to  ask  for  the  hand  of  Mademoiselle  de  Turenne  under  circum- 
stances that  were  entirely  to  his  honour.  The  young  girl 
belonged  to  a  family  just  as  illustrious  as  it  was  poor,  and 
though  she  had  very  rich  relations,  none  of  them  attempted 
to  do  anything  in  her  favour  nor  even  to  try  to  marry 
her  in  her  own  sphere.  Arthur  Meyer  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  the  house  of  her  parents,  and  had  many  opportunities  of 
watching  the  revolts  of  a  youthful  mind  disgusted  at  what  it 
perceived  of  the  injustices  of  the  world.  One  day  she  told 
him  that  she  did  not  know  what  she  could  do  to  escape  the 
misery  of  her  existence,  adding  that  she  knew  that  only  two 
roads  were  open  to  her,  either  a  convent  or  the  free  life  of 
a  woman  who  had  put  aside  all  prejudices  and  the 
principles  in  which  she  had  been  reared.  "  And,"  she 
added,  "  I  don't  want  to  become  a  nun,  I  have  not  got 
the  courage  to  leave  the  society  to  which  I  belong,  and  I 
would  never  commit  suicide.  I  have  often  wondered  what 
I  could  do." 

Meyer  was  above  all  chivalrous,  and  the  despair  of  that 
young  and  lovely  woman  touched  him  deeply.  He  did  not 

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love  her,  and  he  knew  very  well  that  she  could  feel  no  love 
for  him,  but  he  asked  her  to  become  his  wife,  and,  after  some 
hesitation,  she  accepted  his  offer.  Of  course  society  rose  up 
in  arms  when  it  heard  about  it,  but  nevertheless  neither 
her  uncle,  Count  Louis  de  Turenne,  nor  her  aunt,  the  Marquise 
de  Nicolai,  whose  wealth  could  be  counted  by  millions,  ever 
tried  by  making  her  a  small  dowry  to  give  her  the  chance  of 
marrying  within  her  own  sphere. 

And  so,  one  fine  autumn  day,  the  son  of  a  little  Jewish 
tailor  became  the  husband  of  a  girl  whose  ancestry  had  helped 
in  the  making  of  some  of  the  most  glorious  pages  in  the 
history  of  France.  Verily,  life  holds  strange  surprises  in 
reserve  for  those  who  care  to  watch  it. 

Arthur  Meyer  is  altogether  a  curious  type,  both  as  a  man 
and  as  a  journalist.  One  cannot  help  liking  him  even  when  one 
does  not  sympathise  with  his  opinions,  or  with  his  person. 
He  is  an  anomaly  in  everything,  and  no  one  would  ever  feel 
surprised  at  anything  he  might  do  or  say.  He  has  certainly 
forsaken  his  race  and  his  creed,  yet  so  thoroughly  has  he 
succeeded  in  impressing  those  who  know  him  with  his  good 
qualities  that  he  has  never  been  repulsed  for  the  light-hearted- 
ness  with  which  he  has  burned  the  boats  of  his  faith. 

M.  Arthur  Meyer  is  the  proprietor  of  the  Gaulois,  the 
fashionable  organ  of  fashionable  Paris,  of  the  upper  ten 
thousand  who  constitute  Parisian  society,  that  motley  crowd 
in  which  unfortunately  money  is  the  only  passport  needed 
to  ensure  an  entrance.  It  has  one  rival,  the  Figaro.  The 
Figaro  is  extremely  well  informed,  has  contributors  of  great 
talent,  and  is  as  eminently  respectable  as  that  kind  of  paper 
can  be  which  devotes  a  large  part  to  gossip  more  or  less  good- 
natured.  But  it  is  no  longer  what  that  king  among  journal- 
ists, Villemessant,  had  made  it. 

Of  papers  in  which  popular  passions  are  constantly  appealed 

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to,  and  in  which  one  only  seeks  the  criticism  of  the  existing 
government,  only  one,  the  Presse,  deserves  more  than  a  passing 
mention,  and  that  only  because  its  editor  was  M.  Henri  Roche- 
fort,  who  up  to  his  death  in  1913  always  wrote  the  leading 
article  which  figures  at  the  head  of  the  paper.  M.  Rochefort 
was  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  productions  of  modern 
journalism,  to  which  he  gave  a  direction  that  had  been  un- 
known until  he  initiated  it.  His  talent,  which  was  essentially 
critical,  bordering  on  satire  when  it  did  not  frankly  take 
that  tinge,  procured  for  him  a  celebrity  which  spread  far 
and  wide  beyond  the  frontiers  of  France. 

No  one  ever  succeeded  as  he  did  in  finding  words  that 
appealed  to  the  mob,  and  which  in  a  few  words  expressed  so 
much.  His  Lanterne  contributed  more  than  anything  else 
to  the  fall  of  the  Empire,  and  Napoleon  III.,  who  knew 
humanity  perhaps  better  than  anyone  else,  did  not  despise 
him  as  an  adversary,  although  his  importance  was  denied 
by  Napoleon's  ministers  and  entourage,  who  advised  him  to 
pay  no  notice  to  the  weekly  attacks  of  the  Lanterne  against 
his  person  and  his  government.  One  day  M.  Rouher 
tried  to  minimise  the  influence  of  that  sheet,  saying  that 
though  people  read  it,  its  attacks  were  despised.  The  Emperor 
replied  that  he  knew  it,  but,  he  added,  "  I  am  also  aware 
that  there  exist  women  whom  we  despise  but  to  whom, 
nevertheless,  we  pay  attention." 

There  was  a  deep  meaning  in  this  simple  phrase.  Certain 
it  was  that  all  reasonable  and  well-thinking  people  despised 
the  attacks  against  everything  that  others  held  sacred  in 
which  the  Marquis  de  Rochefort  Lu$ay  continually  indulged, 
but  nevertheless  the  seeds  blossomed  in  time  ;  indeed,  no  one 
more  than  himself  contributed  to  discredit  authority.  By 
this  Rochefort  became  the  idol  of  the  Parisian  masses,  and 
remained  its  favourite  until  his  death. 

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I  was  very  fond  of  M.  Rochefort,  and  used  to  find  great 
pleasure  in  spending  a  few  hours  in  his  company  whenever  I 
found  an  opportunity.  Nothing  could  be  more  amusing 
than  his  conversation ;  the  mixture  of  cynicism  and  irony 
that  now  and  then  came  out  in  brilliant  paradoxes  full  of 
wit  if  devoid  of  common  sense,  constituted  something  quite 
unique,  which  was  bound  to  appeal  to  the  imagination  of  his 
listeners,  and  make  them  smile  even  when  they  felt  a  sense 
of  distaste. 

He  believed  in  nothing,  not  even  in  himself ;  respected 
nothing,  loved  nothing,  but  liked  many  things — his  collec- 
tions, his  pictures,  his  work,  the  influence  which  he  imagined 
that  he  wielded  around  him,  and  which  in  reality  was  not  so 
considerable  as  he  thought.  And  he  never  hesitated  before 
uttering  one  of  his  bon  mots,  or  writing  one  of  his  bitter 
scathing  articles,  even  when  he  was  perfectly  aware  that  by 
doing  so  he  was  hurting  innocent  people — people  who  had 
done  no  wrong,  and  who  had  only  incurred  his  displeasure  by 
being  either  related  or  connected  with  those  who  had  become 
the  subject  of  his  criticism. 

The  best  description  that  one  can  make  of  M.  Rochefort 
would  be  that  he  was  "  perfectly  unscrupulous,"  and  if  he 
were  still  living  I  do  not  think  he  would  deny  that  this 
was  so.  Rather,  he  would  glory  in  it,  because,  as  he 
once  told  me,  "  Dans  ce  monde  il  faut  toujours  mordre, 
ne  rut  ce  que  pour  oter  aux  autres  la  possibilite  d'en  faire 
autant  avec  vous "  ("  In  this  world  one  must  always  bite, 
if  only  to  prevent  others  doing  the  same  to  you").  One 
could  have  replied  to  this  remark  that  there  are  some 
mortal  and  some  insignificant  bites,  and  that  it  was  not 
always  the  latter  that  he  indulged  in. 

A  curious  peculiarity  of   M.   Rochefort  was  that,   fierce 
Republican  though  he  pretended  to  be,  yet  he  was  inordinately 

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fond  of  his  name  and  of  his  title,  and  a  servant  who  would 
forget  to  call  him  Monsieur  le  Marquis  would  be  dismissed 
instantly.  Bereft  of  his  parents,  and  so  without  experience 
of  the  affection  of  home  life,  his  earliest  days  were  most 
difficult. 

Until  he  attempted  journalism  he  had  been  a  subordinate 
clerk  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  earning  barely  enough  to  keep  body 
and  soul  together.  He  never  forgot  this  period  of  his  ex- 
istence, and,  whenever  he  allowed  himself  to  speak  about  it, 
a  bitterness  showed  itself  which  he  could  not  keep  within 
bounds. 

One  day,  alluding  to  those  dark  and  hopeless  times, 
when  he  had  spent  many  hours  scribbling  at  some  wearisome 
task,  he  said  to  me  :  "  It  is  impossible  for  anyone  who  has  not 
undergone  it  to  imagine  what  it  feels  like  to  see  the  spring 
and  not  be  able  to  get  out  of  doors."  The  remark  appeared 
to  me  almost  too  poetic  to  be  the  expression  of  a  real  feeling, 
but  when  I  told  him  so,  he  replied  quite  earnestly :  "  Evidently 
you  have  never  experienced  what  it  is  to  know  that  you  are 
a  drudge,  although  possessing  the  inner  feeling  that  you  are 
born  to  better  things."  I  could  not  help  then  inquiring  what 
his  feelings  had  been  when  he  was  in  prison,  to  which  he  ex- 
claimed :  "  Oh,  that  was  very  different,  one  always  comes 
out  of  prison,  but  sometimes  one  never  escapes  from  the 
necessity  of  earning  one's  bread  and  butter  by  copying  the 
stupidities  which  other  people  have  written." 

Before  he  died  in  July,  1913,  the  Marquis  de  Rochefort 
Lu9ay  was  a  quasi-millionaire,  the  owner  of  one  of  the  hand- 
somest houses  in  all  Paris,  received  everywhere  that  he  cared 
to  go,  a  desired  guest,  and  an  envied  journalist.  Even  in  his 
later  days  his  pen  was  as  sharp  as  ever,  though  perhaps  it 
was  no  longer  appreciated  as  was  the  case  in  the  later  days  of 
the  Empire. 

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He  was  often  to  be  seen  at  the  Hotel  Drouot,  attending 
the  principal  art  sales  of  the  year,  where  his  knowledge  of 
pictures  and  bibelots  was  highly  appreciated.  His  life  was 
like  a  fairy  tale  in  many  things,  and  in  others  like  a  dark 
nightmare.  He  made  many  foes,  and  kept  few  friends. 
Appearing  to  be  everlastingly  dissatisfied,  he  was  yet  one  of 
the  happiest  men  in  the  world — perhaps  because  he  was  one 
of  the  most  selfish. 


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CHAPTER   XXVI 
THE  PRESIDENCY  OF  M.  LOUBET 

THE  death  of  M.  Felix  Faure  took  France  greatly  by 
surprise ;  the  appointment  of  his  successor  astonished  it 
even  more.  M.  Loubet  was  President  of  the  Senate,  it  is 
true,  but  his  name  had  figured  among  those  who  had  been 
mentioned  in  connection  with  the  Panama  scandal.  This 
last  fact  was  put  forward  by  some  people  when  the  question 
arose  of  the  candidature  of  M.  Rouvier  for  the  Presidency  of 
the  Republic,  and  caused  it  to  be  rejected.  No  one  imagined, 
therefore,  that  it  would  be  disregarded  in  the  case  of  M.  Loubet. 
He  had  many  rivals,  among  them  M.  Brisson,  M.  de  Freycinet, 
whose  name  came  forward  regularly  whenever  a  Presidential 
election  was  about  to  take  place,  and  the  above-mentioned 
M.  Rouvier.  This  candidate  possessed  a  powerful  personality 
and  wielded  an  immense  influence  ;  his  experience  had  been 
varied,  and  his  intelligence  was  certainly  one  of  the  foremost 
in  France.  Had  he  been  elected  to  the  Presidency  his  appoint- 
ment would  have  been  received  with  great  favour  in  Europe. 
On  the  other  hand,  M.  Loubet  was  more  or  less  an  un- 
known person,  supposed  to  be  inoffensive  and  retiring,  but 
possessed  of  a  most  violent  anti- Clericalism,  of  which  he  had 
given  every  possible  proof,  in  the  hope  that  by  these  means 
he  would  make  himself  a  persona  grata  with  the  Radical  party, 
through  whom  he  had  secured  the  Presidency  of  the  Senate, 
an  office  which  hitherto  had  constituted  the  summum  bonum 
of  his  ambitions. 

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He  had  no  wish  to  become  President  of  the  Republic, 
and  it  was  with  great  reluctance  he  allowed  his  name  to  be  put 
forward  as  a  candidate.  But  he  was  under  the  influence  of, 
or,  what  is  even  truer,  dependent  upon,  M.  Clemenceau.  M. 
Clemenceau  had  lately  come  forward  with  considerable  energy, 
especially  since  the  Dreyfus  affair  once  more  was  in  the  public 
mind,  and  he  was  such  a  considerable  personage  among  the 
Radical  party  that  they  could  not  afford  to  disregard  his 
orders  or  even  his  personal  wishes. 

M.  Clemenceau  was  the  Henri  Rochefort  of  political  life, 
with  far  more  intelligence  and  almost  as  much  wit  as  the 
director  of  the  Lanterne,  with  an  extraordinary  force  of  char- 
acter, very  determined  ideas,  and  about  as  few  convictions 
as  were  indispensable  to  a  man  who  had  risen  to  the  leadership 
of  a  powerful  party.  Moreover,  he  had  real  statesmanlike 
qualities. 

He  had  no  great  sympathy  for  the  Russian  alliance,  which 
his  ever-ready  wit  had  quickly  discerned,  when  all  was  said 
and  done,  to  be  a  very  one-sided  affair. 

His  sympathies  were  entirely  English,  and  as  such  it  was 
but  natural  he  should  not  look  with  enchanted  eyes  upon  a 
policy  that  was  bound,  by  its  close  association  with  the  diplo- 
macy pursued  on  the  banks  of  the  Neva,  to  become  antagon- 
istic to  that  of  the  Court  of  St.  James's.  Perhaps  it  was  for 
this  very  reason  that  he  pushed  forward  the  candidature  of 
M.  Loubet. 

He  felt,  or  rather  he  knew,  that  M.  Loubet  had  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  visit  of  the  Tsar  to  Paris  beyond  receiving  him 
when  he  called  at  the  Luxembourg  in  defiance  of  etiquette 
and  precedent. 

With  a  friend  of  his  at  the  Elysee,  the  position  of  M. 
Clemenceau  was  perhaps  even  stronger  than  if  he  himself  had 
been  established  within  its  walls.  He  had  always  admired 

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the  personality  of  Pere  Joseph,  so  well  known  in  the 
history  of  France  as  the  adviser  and  counsellor  of  Richelieu. 
He  intended  playing  the  same  part ;  to  govern  under 
M.  Loubet's  name  as  far  as  the  constitution  allowed  him, 
to  govern  the  Republic  which  he  secretly  despised,  but 
to  which  he  clung,  because  he  knew  that  it  was  the  only 
government  under  which  he  could  do  absolutely  what  he 
liked 

M.  Clemenceau  had  taken  a  sincere  liking  to  a  very  attractive 
and  very  beautiful  lady.  He  is  still  on  terms  of  great  friend- 
ship with  her,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  she  is  no  longer 
young,  and  that  white  locks  have  taken  the  place  of  her  golden 
curls.  She  is  an  American,  the  daughter  of  that  Colonel 
Burdan  who  invented  the  rifle  which  still  bears  his  name. 
She  had  married  a  French  diplomat,  the  Comte  d'Aunay,  and 
was  noted  in  her  youth  for  her  extraordinary  loveliness. 
Mme.  d'Aunay  was  ambitious  above  everything,  and  her  great 
dream  was  to  see  her  husband  become  an  Ambassador.  She 
imagined  that  M.  Clemenceau  could  help  her  to  realise  her 
one  ambition,  and  she  then  set  herself  to  win  his  friendship 
for  herself  and  for  her  husband.  The  task  was  easy  enough 
for  a  woman  gifted  with  such  beauty  and  such  remarkable 
intelligence,  and  though  the  world  chatted  not  a  little — as 
so  often  it  does  without  foundation — concerning  this  friend- 
ship, yet  secretly  it  envied  her  for  her  cleverness  in  having 
won  him  as  a  well-wisher.  Then  one  day  came  the  crash 
and  the  blighting  of  the  fair  Countess's  hopes.  The  French 
Ministry  for  Foreign  Affairs  became  alarmed  at  the  marvellous 
way  in  which  M.  Clemenceau  was  kept  informed  of  what  was 
going  on  in  diplomatic  circles  at  Copenhagen,  where  Count 
d'Aunay  was  accredited  as  French  Minister,  and  wondered 
how  he  could  be  in  possession  of  the  most  secret  information 
before  even  it  became  known  at  the  Quai  d'Orsay.  Inquiries 

310 


M.    M.    F.    SADI-CARNOT 
(President  1887-1894) 


M.   J.   P.   P.   CASIMIR   PERIER 
(President  1894-1895) 


M.    F.    F.    FAURE 
(President  1895-1899) 


M.   E.    LOUBET 
(President  1899-1906) 


All  photos ;  Petit,  Paris, 


Presidency  of  M.  Loubet 

were  instituted  which  resulted  in  the  resignation  of  certain 
parties. 

It  was  partly  Mme.  d'Aunay  who  was  responsible  for  the 
English  sympathies  of  M.  Clemenceau  ;  she  had  lived  in  London 
for  a  long  time,  had  made  many  good  friends,  and  also  won 
still  more  admirers.  She  was  ambitious  to  have  her  husband 
appointed  to  the  British  capital  as  Ambassador  for  the  French 
Republic,  and  she  did  her  best  to  persuade  M.  Clemenceau  to 
set  his  back  against  the  Russian  alliance. 

The  great  Radical  leader  did  not  ask  anything  else,  but  he 
was  very  well  aware  that  to  go  against  the  popular  feeling  was 
quite  useless  and  hopeless,  and  might  even  cause  his  own 
patriotism  to  be  suspected.  But  he  knew  also  that  French 
people  are  apt  to  lose  their  illusions  as  quickly  as  they  come 
under  their  influence,  and  so  he  quietly  waited  for  the  course 
of  events  to  justify  the  words  of  warning  he  had  uttered  to 
the  few  friends  before  whom  he  could  talk  quite  openly. 

When  he  favoured  the  candidature  of  M.  Loubet  to  the 
Chief  Magistracy  of  the  Republic,  he  had  his  plan  quite  ready, 
together  with  a  programme  which  included  an  alliance  with 
England  and  a  rupture  with  the  Vatican.  Papal  influence  he 
dreaded  the  more  in  that  he  knew  that  in  Pope  Leo  XIII.  he  had 
an  opponent  just  as  shrewd  as  he  was  himself,  one  who  would 
consent  to  the  greatest  sacrifices  in  order^  to  keep  upon  good 
terms  with  the  Republic.  To  this  last  the  Radical  party  was 
not  at  all  agreeable,  and  consequently  it  was  indispensable 
that  he  should  assure  himself  of  the  sympathies  of  the  President, 
whoever  he  might  be,  in  order  not  to  be  thwarted  secretly  in 
his  designs  as  earlier  he  had  been  by  M.  Felix  Faure,  whose 
policy  had  been  far  more  personal  than  the  world  was 
permitted  to  guess. 

I  happened  to  be  at  Versailles  on  the  day  of  the  election 
of  M.  Loubet.  An  hour  before  the  result  became  known  bets 

3" 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

were  still  being  taken  concerning  the  chances  he  had  to  be 
elected.  M.  Rouvier  was  distinctly  favoured,  and  probabilities 
pointed  to  M.  Brisson  making  a  close  run.  I  was  lunching 
at  the  Hotel  des  Reservoirs  with  some  friends,  of  whom 
Henri  Rochefort  was  one,  when  suddenly  M.  Clemenceau 
came  by.  He  was  instantly  surrounded  by  a  group  of  j  ournalists 
eager  to  hear  his  opinion  as  to  who  would  win.  He  laughingly 
parried  their  questions,  saying  that  the  only  thing  he  was 
sure  of  was  that  Clemenceau  would  not  be  President  of  the 
Republic,  to  which  Rochefort  remarked  in  an  undertone  that 
he  would  not  need  to  be,  as  it  would  be  his  candidate  who 
would  occupy  that  post. 

M.  Loubet  was  elected,  and  at  once  the  Dreyfus  affair  took 
a  new  turn.  After  a  struggle,  in  which  the  government 
yielded  almost  without  fighting,  the  unfortunate  captain 
was  brought  back  to  France,  and  his  re-trial  took  place  at 
Rennes,  with  the  result  known  to  everybody,  and  for  which 
M.  Clemenceau  deserves  the  thanks  of  his  compatriots  as  well 
as  of  posterity,  because  anything  more  iniquitous  than  this 
affair  has  never  disgraced  a  country. 

Most  emphatically  of  all  the  politicians  who  were  prominent 
in  France  at  the  time  of  the  election  of  M.  Loubet,  M.  Clemen- 
ceau was  the  shrewdest  and  also  the  most  far-seeing.  He 
had  perceived  that  even  had  Captain  Dreyfus  been  guilty,  it 
would  be  to  the  advantage  of  France  for  him  to  be  declared 
innocent,  and  also  that  so  long  as  that  bone  of  contention  was 
left  to  the  enemies  of  the  Republic,  they  would  expend  all 
their  efforts  in  using  it  as  a  weapon  to  discredit  not  only  the 
form  of  government  they  disliked,  but  also  to  shame  France 
herself. 

One  cannot  say  that  the  Elysee  improved  as  regarded  its 
inner  life  under  the  Presidency  of  M.  Loubet.  The  pomp  and 
grandeur  introduced  by  M.  Felix  Faure  were  reduced  to  a 

312 


Presidency  of  M.  Loubet 

minimum,  and  existence  began  to  resemble  the  one  led  by 
M.  and  Mme.  Jules  Grevy,  with  perhaps  a  shade  more  elegance, 
but  without  any  luxury,  save  what  was  absolutely  necessary. 
Madame  Loubet  rarely  went  out  in  anything  else  but  a  modest 
brougham  drawn  by  one  horse,  and  she  avoided  everything 
that  could  be  construed  as  love  of  ostentation  or  luxury.  On 
the  other  hand,  she  was  extremely  charitable,  and,  with  the 
exception  of  the  Marechale  MacMahon,  no  wife  of  a  President 
of  the  Republic  did  more  for  the  welfare  of  the  poor  of  Paris, 
and  by  them  she  was  literally  worshipped.  She  was  totally 
devoid  of  affectation,  and  never  tried  to  pose  for  what  she  was 
not,  or  to  play  at  being  the  great  lady  by  birth  as  well  as 
by  position.  Everyone  liked  and  respected  her.  Such  was 
not  the  case  with  M.  Loubet,  in  whom  some  people  saw  a 
nonentity  and  others  merely  a  puppet  in  the  hands  of  M. 
Clemenceau  and  his  friends. 

During  his  tenure  of  office  the  new  President  paid  several 
visits  abroad,  among  others  to  St.  Petersburg,  London,  and 
Rome.  With  the  exception  of  the  one  to  London,  it  cannot 
be  said  that  his  journeys  were  successful.  In  Russia  people 
were  getting  just  a  little  tired  of  the  perpetual  ovations  which 
had  been  allowed  to  take  place  in  favour  of  France  and  the 
French  alliance.  The  Japanese  question  was  already  engrossing 
the  public  mind,  and  it  was  vaguely  felt  in  the  country,  what- 
ever one  may  have  thought  at  the  Foreign  Office,  that  some- 
how France  had  failed  in  her  friendship  for  her  ally  of  the 
other  day  in  the  Far  East,  and  had  not  sufficiently  upheld  her 
pretensions  in  the  many  entangled  questions  which  had  sprung 
up  in  consequence  of  the  fatal  policy  of  Admiral  Alexieff  and 
his  friends. 

The  entire  misunderstanding  which  had  prevailed  at 
the  demonstrative  Franco-Russian  alliance  was  becoming 
more  apparent  every  day ;  essentially  it  had  been  based  on 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  desire  of  each  of  the  signatories  to  get  as  much  as  possible 
out  of  the  other.  France  had  fully  expected  that  she  would 
be  given  the  opportunity  of  recovering  Alsace  and  Lorraine, 
and  Russia  had  only  seen  the  possibility  of  borrowing,  under 
favourable  conditions,  the  money  she  wanted.  As  time 
had  gone  by  Russia  had  found  out  that  French  bankers  were 
just  as  exacting  as  were  German  bankers,  while  France  had 
discovered  that  her  interests  were  dear  to  Russia  only  inso- 
much as  they  did  not  clash  or  interfere  with  her  own.  A 
certain  coolness  had  sprung  up  between  them,  though  in 
Paris  as  well  as  in  St.  Petersburg  politicians  and  journalists 
were  eagerly  seizing  every  opportunity  to  declare  that  the 
alliance  was  stronger  than  ever. 

Under  those  circumstances  the  journey  of  M.  Loubet  to 
St.  Petersburg  might  have  been  pleasant,  but  could  not  have 
been  very  useful.  In  London  it  was  different.  He  found 
there  many  sympathisers  and  well-wishers  who  were  only 
too  desirous  of  accentuating  the  good  relations  of  France 
with  Great  Britain.  To  begin  with  King  Edward  and  to  end 
with  the  man  in  the  street,  they  all  vied  with  each  other 
to  show  the  greatest  cordiality  to  the  President  and  to  make 
him  welcome  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word.  When 
M.  Loubet  returned  to  Paris  he  could  say  with  pride  and 
satisfaction  that  the  old  rivalries  which  had  divided  the  two 
countries  had  been  buried  under  the  flowers  which  had  orna- 
mented the  dining-table  in  the  Waterloo  Hall  of  Windsor 
Castle. 

The  Roman  trip  of  the  President,  though  conducted  on 
simpler  lines  than  those  of  his  English  journey,  was  perhaps 
the  most  important  event  of  M.  Loubet's  septenary.  It  dis- 
tinctly proclaimed  the  attitude  which  the  French  Government 
meant  to  adopt  in  regard  to  the  religious  question  and  to  its 
relations  with  the  Vatican.  The  guest  of  the  Italian  King 

3H 


Presidency  of  M.  Loubet 

at  the  Quirinal,  M.  Loubet  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  follow 
the  example  set  by  all  the  other  foreign  monarchs  who  visited 
Rome  by  going  from  the  house  of  the  Ambassador  to  the 
Holy  See,  as  a  neutral  place,  to  visit  the  Pope  at  the  Vatican. 
The  courtesy  paid  to  the  head  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
by  the  German  Crown  Prince,  and  later  on  by  the  German 
Emperor,  was  deemed  to  be  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  President 
of  the  French  Republic  ;  and  when  the  government  was  asked 
in  the  Chamber  what  M.  Loubet  meant  to  do  in  regard  to 
this  question  of  a  visit  to  the  Pope,  it  replied  that  it  had  been 
decided  that  the  President  should  refrain. 

Soon  after  this  relations  were  entirely  suspended  between 
the  Holy  See  and  the  French  Republic,  and  the  separation 
between  Church  and  State  became  an  accomplished  fact. 
M.  Loubet  had  not  failed  in  the  confidence  which  M.  Clemen- 
ceau  and  the  Radical  party  had  reposed  in  him. 

The  principal  feature  of  this  septenary  of  a  gentle  and 
yielding  little  bourgeois  was  the  establishing  of  the  regular 
and  automatic  change  of  Presidents — a  rule  which  gave  to 
the  Republic  a  stability  which  hitherto  it  had  been  wanting. 
M.  Thiers  had  been  overturned ;  Marshal  MacMahon  and 
M.  Grevy  had  been  obliged  to  resign ;  M.  Carnot  had  been 
murdered,  and  M.  Faure  had  died  suddenly,  whilst  M.  Casimir 
Perier  had  grown  impatient  at  the  restraint  to  which  he  found 
his  faculties  subjected.  It  was  only  dating  from  M.  Loubet 
that  the  transmission  of  the  supreme  power  became  an  accom- 
plished fact,  and  that  at  last  the  Republic,  as  well  as  a  Monarchy, 
had  its  Sovereigns  whose  reign  was  followed  by  that  of  their 
duly  elected  successors. 

During  his  Presidency,  too,  the  components  of  Paris  society 
changed  considerably.  New  salons  sprang  up  which  aspired 
to  replace  the  older  ones,  and  in  a  certain  sense  they  succeeded 
in  doing  so.  The  bourgeoisie  which  Loubet  represented  so 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

well  came  to  the  front,  and  the  newspapers,  which  hitherto 
had  carefully  noted  the  sayings  and  doings  of  the  Duchess 
of  So-and-So  and  the  Countess  of  So-and-So,  began  to  chronicle 
those  of  Madame  Menard  Dorian  or  of  Madame  Alphonse 
Daudet,  or  of  the  wives  and  daughters  of  members  and 
supporters  of  the  government.  Thus  a  new  society  began  to 
play  its  part  in  Parisian  social  life,  and  soon  entirely  pervaded 
it.  Financial  houses,  too,  opened  wide  their  doors  to  all  who 
cared  to  enter,  and  whilst  formerly  the  Rothschilds  had  been 
almost  the  only  bankers  with  whom  the  old  French  nobility 
had  cared  to  associate,  dozens  of  Jews  now  invaded 
Parisian  society.  The  distinction  which  used  to  exist 
formerly  between  the  noblesse  and  what  it  had  called  dis- 
dainfully "  les  roturiers  "  had  entirely  disappeared  under  the 
glamour  which  millions  always  exert  over  the  imagination  of 
the  crowds.  It  was  felt  that  money  was  the  principal  thing 
required,  and  under  this  influence  the  Hebrew  and  the  American 
element  had  a  fine  time  of  it. 

It  is  impossible  to  write  anything  about  Parisian  society 
nowadays  without  saying  something  concerning  M.  de  Castel- 
lane.  For  a  few  brief  years  he  incarnated  in  his  person  the 
acme  of  French  elegance,  and  was  the  fleur  des  pois  of  all  the 
smart  clubs  of  Paris.  He  was  a  terrible  little  fop  who  aspired 
only  to  one  thing :  to  be  the  most  talked-about  man  of  his 
generation.  When  he  married  Miss  Gould,  he  fondly  imagined 
that  this  marriage  gave  him  the  right  to  do  everything  he 
liked,  down  to  ill-treating  his  wife.  He  began  buying  right 
and  left  everything  that  caught  his  fancy,  and  built  for  him- 
self a  palace  after  the  model  of  the  Petit  Trianon;  he  made 
Paris  ring  with  his  extravagances,  and  pretended  to  assume  the 
part  of  the  one  supreme  leader  of  society.  Even  the  many 
millions  which  his  wife  had  brought  to  him  proved  insufficient ; 
and  very  soon  his  horses,  his  vagaries,  his  losses  at  cards, 

316 


Presidency  of  M.  Loubet 

and  his  general  behaviour  brought  about  a  financial  catastrophe, 
which  was  the  prelude  to  a  conjugal  one.  Mme.  de  Castellane 
became  tired  of  being  outraged  at  every  step,  and  sued  for 
a  divorce,  which  was  easily  awarded  to  her. 

Anyone  in  de  Castellane's  place  would  have  resigned  himself 
to  the  inevitable,  but  instead,  he  threatened  to  take  the 
children  from  her.  Madame  de  Castellane  behaved  nobly  on 
this  trying  occasion.  She  might  easily  have  retaliated,  and  she 
had  got  plenty  of  proofs  which  she  could  have  produced  that 
would  have  for  ever  compromised  the  Comte  de  Castellane 
and  other  people  with  him.  She  never  made  use  of  that  power, 
and  as  her  advocate,  M.  Albert  Clemenceau — the  brother 
of  M.  Georges  Clemenceau — eloquently  said  :  "  My  client 
has  her  hands  full,  but  she  disdains  to  open  them  in  order  to 
harm  the  man  who,  after  all,  is  the  father  of  her  children  !  " 

The  Countess  came  out  of  this  painful  ordeal  with  flying 
colours.  Her  children  were  left  in  her  charge,  notwithstanding 
all  the  efforts  of  M.  de  Castellane.  Soon  after  her  divorce 
was  pronounced  she  married  a  cousin  of  her  former  husband, 
the  Due  de  Talleyrand,  the  son  of  the  famous  Prince  de  Sagan. 
The  couple  lead  a  very  quiet  life  in  the  palace  erected  by  Count 
Boni,  and  at  the  Chateau  de  Marais,  a  splendid  property 
which  they  possess  not  far  from  Paris.  The  Faubourg  St. 
Germain,  not  approving  of  divorces,  has  turned  the  cold 
shoulder  upon  them,  which  fact  does  not  trouble  them  much. 
They  are  happy  in  themselves,  and  the  Duchess  must  often 
congratulate  herself  on  her  moral  courage,  of  which  she  gave 
proof  when  she  decided  to  seek  her  freedom  from  an  ill-assorted 
union  which  had  brought  to  her  nothing  but  unhappiness  and 
sorrow.  As  for  M.  de  Castellane,  he  vegetates  in  an  obscurity 
which  must  be  doubly  painful  to  him  when  he  remembers 
the  luxury  in  which  he  spent  a  few  short  years,  and  which 
he  lost  through  his  own  vanity  and  stupidity. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 
THE  DREYFUS  AFFAIR 

WHEN  Paris  at  first  began  talking  about  the  high  treason  of 
Captain  Dreyfus,  people  did  not  take  much  notice  ;  it  seemed 
to  be  but  one  of  many  such.  The  public  was  more  or  less 
used  to  events  of  the  kind,  and  did  not  give  them  more  than 
a  passing  thought.  I  happened,  however,  to  know  some 
friends  of  the  Dreyfus  family,  and,  calling  on  one  of  them, 
I  was  not  very  much  surprised  to  hear  him  declare  that  the 
Captain  was  innocent — the  victim  of  an  intrigue.  Such 
language  was  perfectly  natural  on  the  part  of  relatives  of 
the  accused  man,  but  these  denials  were  also  accompanied 
by  several  details  which  gave  them  more  importance  than, 
under  different  conditions,  would  have  been  legitimate. 

For  the  first  time  I  heard  the  name  of  Colonel  Esterhazy 
as  one  who  could  have  said  a  lot  concerning  this  intricate 
affair  had  he  cared  to  do  so,  and  the  impression  left  upon 
my  mind  by  the  conversation  which  I  had  on  that  day  was 
strong  enough  to  inspire  me  with  the  desire  to  be  present  at 
the  coming  trial.  Consequently,  I  requested  and,  after 
difficulty,  obtained  from  the  War  Office  permission  to  be 
present. 

I  had  never  seen  Captain  Dreyfus  before  the  day  when 
I  beheld  him  sitting  in  the  dock  listening  to  the  evidence  on 
the  strength  of  which  he  was  to  be  sent  to  the  Devil's  Island 
for  five  long  years.  I  must  say  that  his  appearance  did  not 
draw  out  the  sympathy  of  any  onlooker  who  did  not  give  him- 

318 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

self  the  trouble  to  watch  his  countenance  attentively.  In- 
deed, had  his  appearance  been  more  prepossessing,  he  would 
perhaps  have  met  with  more  indulgence  than  was  the  case. 
But  in  the  whole  of  my  long  life  I  have  never  seen  a  man  with 
more  strength  of  character  and  more  power  to  keep  his  personal 
emotions  under  control.  Not  a  muscle  of  his  face  moved 
during  the  time  that  witness  after  witness  spoke  of  his  pre- 
sumed guilt ;  his  eyes  never  fired  up,  even  when  he  heard 
himself  accused  of  a  crime  that  he  had  never  committed. 
The  only  words  he  spoke  were  uttered  in  a  low  tone,  in  which 
weariness  more  than  anything  else  was  apparent,  and  he  never 
said  anything  else  but  the  phrase,  "  Je  suis  innocent." 

And  yet  it  was  impossible  to  look  at  him  and  not  to  realise 
that  this  indifferent  man,  whom  nothing  seemed  to  move, 
who  had  not  even  the  strength  to  protest  indignantly  against 
the  accusation  hurled  at  him,  was  enduring  a  perfect 
martyrdom ;  that  his  apparent  calmness  was  the  calmness 
of  despair.  He  knew  too  well  that  he  could  not  prove  his 
innocence,  that  he  had  been  made  the  victim  of  other  people's 
guilt,  and  that  he  was  being  crushed  by  the  wheels  of  a 
Juggernaut  moved  along  by  an  inexorable  fate.  Once 
he  started,  and  that  was  when  sentence  was  pronounced 
against  him,  and  when  the  words,  "  degradation  militaire," 
resounded  in  the  room.  A  feeling  of  revolt  appeared  to 
shake  him,  and  he  made  a  gesture  as  if  he  wanted  to  rush 
forward ;  but  it  lasted  only  a  second,  and  then  he  lapsed 
into  his  usual  apathy,  as  if  he  had  understood  that  his  protest 
would  only  have  added  to  the  bitter  feelings  of  revenge  which 
the  public  manifested  against  him. 

After  judgment  had  been  pronounced  I  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  speaking  to  one  of  those  who  had  given  the  verdict. 
I  asked  him  whether  he  really  believed  in  the  Captain's  guilt. 
The  officer  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  replied  :  "  It  is  difficult 

319 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

to  say.  Treason  has  taken  place ;  and,  after  all,  it  is  better 
to  assert  that  a  Jew  has  been  guilty  than  to  fix  it  on  a  French- 
man." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  these  words  gave  the  key  to  the  under- 
currents of  Vaffaire  Dreyfus.  Some  people,  whether  sincerely 
or  otherwise,  believed  that  treason  had  been  committed, 
and  finding  that  it  became  incumbent  to  fix  it  on  someone, 
preferred  to  take  a  Jew  as  a  victim  than  one  of  their  own 
brethren  in  race  and  faith. 

At  the  time  the  affair  began  anti-Semitism  was  already 
very  powerful  in  France. 

Drumont  had  published  his  famous  books,  each  rendered 
so  stupid  in  one  sense  by  the  pertinacity  with  which  he  called 
a  Jew  every  person  whom  he  thought  he  had  a  reason  for 
disliking  ;  and  so  dangerous  in  another  sense,  by  the  way 
in  which  he  appealed  to  all  the  evil  instincts  of  the  mob,  and 
urged  it  to  rise  against  people  whose  only  guilt  consisted  in 
being  rich. 

The  Clerical  party  especially  did  all  that  was  in  its  power 
to  fan  the  hatred  against  Jews,  which  had  always  existed  in 
a  greater  or  lesser  degree.  It  accused  them  of  inspiring  all 
the  anti-Clerical  measures  adopted  by  the  various  govern- 
ments which  had  succeeded  one  another  in  the  country.  Also, 
it  was  foolish  enough  to  seize  the  pretext  of  the  Dreyfus  affair 
to  associate  anti-Semitism  with  the  question  of  the  Captain's 
guilt  or  innocence,  and  thereby  to  excite  public  opinion  against 
the  Jews  in  general,  more  even  than  against  the  Captain 
himself. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Radical  party,  which  was  gaining 
adherents  every  day,  was  delighted  to  be  able  to  secure  the 
support  of  the  Jews  in  its  struggle  against  Clericalism.  They, 
therefore,  hastened  to  accuse  the  Clericals  of  trying  to  prove 
the  Captain  guilty  in  order  to  be  able  to  trace  some  association 

320 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

between  his  supposed  guilt  and  the  actions  of  the  numerous 
rich  Hebrews  in  France. 

It  has  been  said  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  campaign 
which  was  started  in  favour  of  Dreyfus,  when  someone  asked 
M.  Clemenceau  what  he  thought  about  the  whole  affair,  the 
Radical  leader  replied  that  he  did  not  know  yet  what  there 
was  in  it,  but  that  he  saw  it  could  become  an  admirable  weapon 
in  the  hands  of  the  different  political  parties  which  existed 
in  France. 

That  weapon  no  one  better  understood  how  to  use  than 
he  did.  His  great  ambition  had  always  been  to  become 
Prime  Minister,  if  not  President,  of  France,  but  so  far  he 
had  not  seen  any  possibility  of  realising  his  dream.  The 
Dreyfus  affair  gave  him  the  opportunity  he  sought,  and  he 
was  not  the  man  to  allow  it  to  slip. 

He  engineered  the  whole  campaign  begun  by  M.  Scheurer 
Kestner,  when  he  proclaimed  aloud  that  he  had  obtained  the 
proofs  of  the  innocence  of  Captain  Alfred  Dreyfus ;  he  encour- 
aged M.  Zola  to  write  his  famous  letter,  "  I  accuse  "  ;  he  gave 
all  the  benefit  of  his  experience  to  those  whom  he  sent  fighting 
for  the  cause  which  he  considered  to  be  more  his  than  anyone 
else's,  and  in  the  end  he  reaped  the  reward  of  his  unremitting 
zeal.  To  the  Dreyfus  case  he  owed  finally  the  Premiership 
of  France,  a  post  which  he  had  coveted  all  his  life,  and  on 
the  wave  of  this  affair  he  would  have  been  elected  President 
of  the  Republic  had  he  not  found  an  adversary  of  import- 
ance in  M.  Briand,  whom  he  himself  had  helped  to  come  to 
the  front  without  suspecting  that  he  could  become  his  rival. 

A  curious  feature  in  the  Dreyfus  campaign  was  the  celerity 
with  which  it  became  a  personal  matter  with  those  who  took 
part  in  it.  One  and  all  sought  in  its  intricacies  their  own 
advantage  more  than  anything  else,  and  the  Captain  was 
very  soon  forgotten.  Having  been  the  pretext  for  furthering 
v  321 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

innumerable  personal  ambitions,  he  was  scarcely  remembered 
whilst  the  fight  for  his  rehabilitation  lasted. 

As  an  instance  of  what  I  have  just  said,  I  will  relate  an 
amusing  incident.  After  the  trial  at  Rennes,  and  when  it 
became  known  that  President  Loubet  had  pardoned  Dreyfus, 

I  was  dining  one  evening  with  a  lady,  Madame  de ,  whose 

salon  had  been  one  of  the  strongholds  of  the  Dreyfusards. 
Of  course,  the  affair  was  discussed.  Someone  remarked  that 
it  was  a  pity  that  the  accused  man  had  not  been  acquitted, 
as  it  would  have  put  an  end  to  the  whole  sad  and,  in  many 
points,  sordid  business,  whereon  our  hostess  exclaimed,  "  Oh, 
no,  it  is  not  a  pity  ;  fancy  how  sad  it  would  be  if  we  had 
not  a  pretext  for  carrying  it  farther  !  " 

This  hasty  retort,  which  I  am  sure  Madame  de  re- 
gretted later  on,  represented  the  opinion  of  most  of  the  partisans 
of  Dreyfus ;  they  forgot  entirely  the  personal  feelings  of  the 
victim  of  this  injustice  of  political  passion,  and  only  sought 
in  the  agitation  the  furtherance  of  their  own  schemes  and 
intrigues. 

This  Dreyfus  campaign  completely  hypnotised  every 
person  who  was  drawn  into  its  intricacies.  Towards  its  close, 
I  do  not  think  that  even  among  the  principal  actors  of  the 
drama  one  could  have  found  one  man  or  woman  who  really 
understood  it,  or  who  could  speak  of  it  without  allowing  their 
personal  interest  to  interfere  with  the  opinions  held. 

As  for  the  real  circumstances  attending  this  curious  episode 
in  the  history  of  modern  France,  I  do  not  think  that  they 
will  ever  be  known.  It  is  certain  that  among  some  of  the 
adversaries  of  Dreyfus  there  were  several  sincere  people  who 
believed  that  he  was  guilty.  There  were  also  others,  quite  as 
earnest,  who  professed  the  erroneous  conviction,  that  once 
a  mistake  had  been  made  this  mistake  ought  not,  for  the 
honour  of  the  army  and  for  that  of  its  generals,  to  be  admitted. 

322 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

Of  course,  this  was  a  point  of  view  which  could  never  be 
accepted  by  anyone  calling  himself  honest,  but,  in  a  certain 
sense,  it  can  be  understood  though  never  excused. 

Only  the  severest  condemnation  can  be  given  to  the  means 
by  which  it  was  endeavoured  to  prove  Dreyfus  guilty,  the 
hideous  way  in  which  each  one  among  all  those  upon  whom 
his  fate  depended  not  only  refused  to  acknowledge  error, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  tried  everything  that  could  be  thought 
of  in  order  to  uphold  the  false  theories  as  to  his  guilt. 

During  the  time  that  the  agitation  for  the  new  trial  lasted, 
I  had  more  than  one  opportunity  of  discussing  the  innocence  of 
Dreyfus  with  several  officers  holding  high  commands,  and  I 
was  horrified  to  observe  the  cynical  way  in  which  they  tried  to 
explain  to  me  that  it  was  indispensable  that  the  decision  of 
the  Paris  court-martial  should  be  confirmed.  When  1  asked 
them  why,  they  always  replied  the  same  thing :  "  Les  arrets 
d'un  conseil  de  guerre,  ne  peuvent  e~tre  critiques,  cela  leur 
enleverait  toute  autorite  sur  1'armee  dans  I'avenir."  ("  The 
decisions  of  a  court-martial  can  never  be  criticised  ;  it  would 
deprive  them  of  all  their  authority  over  the  army  in  the 
future.") 

I  have  never  been  able  to  make  them  understand  that, 
however  important  the  evidence,  a  court-martial  can  be 
mistaken  just  as  well  as  other  people. 

Another  remarkable  side  of  the  Dreyfus  agitation  is  the 
rapid  way  in  which  it  subsided  and  was  forgotten,  as  soon  as 
the  Captain  was  rehabilitated,  and  granted  the  Cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour  as  a  reward  for  his  long  sufferings.  With 
the  exception  of  a  few  people,  such  as  Madame  Zola  and  her 
immediate  friends,  all  those  who  had  taken  a  leading  part  in 
the  struggle  did  everything  that  they  could  to  induce  the 
world  to  forget.  M.  Clemenceau  himself  was  the  prime  mover 
in  the  general  desire  to  consign  to  oblivion  this  episode  in  the 

323 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

political  life  of  the  day.  The  latter,  when  he  became  Prime 
Minister,  buried  Zola  in  the  Pantheon.  The  event  was  the 
occasion  of  a  new  misfortune  for  the  ill-starred  Captain 
Dreyfus,  inasmuch  as  a  Royalist  and  Clerical  partisan  seized 
this  opportunity  to  fire  at  him  a  shot  which  slightly  wounded 
him.  The  incident  nearly  gave  rise  to  a  panic  among  the 
assistants,  who  thought  that  a  bomb  had  been  thrown  at 
President  Fallieres  and  the  members  of  the  government  who 
were  present  at  the  ceremony. 

Having  paid  this  last  homage  to  the  writer  who  had  lent  the 
help  of  his  powerful  pen  to  the  cause  which  he  had  so  ardently 
championed,  M.  Clemenceau  hastened  to  hide  in  the  tomb 
of  Zola  every  remembrance  of  the  Dreyfus  affair,  although 
by  it  he  had  realised  his  every  ambition.  It  had  given  him 
a  popularity  among  French  politicians  of  his  generation  which 
earlier  he  had  been  unable  to  obtain  ;  it  had  posed  him  before 
the  world  as  something  more  than  a  clever  man  (which  reputa- 
tion he  bore) — as  a  real  statesman,  able  to  treat  on  a  footing 
of  equality  the  statesmen  of  Europe — and  it  had  paved  his 
way  to  the  Presidency  of  the  Republic,  that  goal  of  his  ambi- 
tions. Now  all  his  desire  was  to  drive  away  from  the  mind 
of  the  public  the  memory  of  the  political  campaign  in  which 
he  had  taken  such  a  prominent  part. 

After  burying  in  the  Pantheon  the  mortal  remains  of  the 
great  author  whom  he  had  succeeded  in  persuading  that  it 
was  his  duty  to  protest  in  the  name  of  France  against  the 
iniquity  that  had  sent  Captain  Dreyfus  in  exile  to  Devil's 
Island,  M.  Clemenceau  considered  himself  free  from  further 
obligations  toward  those  who  had  been  associated  with  him 
in  the  task  of  bringing  Captain  Dreyfus  back  to  France,  and 
restoring  him  to  his  family.  He  saw  no  reason  to  continue 
to  meet  them,  and  when  Emile  Zola's  daughter  married  one 
of  his  former  secretaries,  he  refrained  from  assisting  at  the 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

ceremony  under  the  plea  of  ill-health,  an  excuse  which  appeared 
to  be  the  more  out  of  place  seeing  that  it  was  announced  in 
the  papers  that  on  that  very  day  he  had  gone  into  the  country 
for  the  shooting.  The  Prime  Minister  did  not  care  that  the 
world  should  think  he  remained  faithful  to  those  associations 
which  had  had  for  their  only  excuse  the  political  necessities 
of  the  moment.  |- 

M.  Clemenceau  was  one  of  many  persons  who  had  seen  in 
the  Dreyfus  affair  the  possibility  of  becoming  either  famous  or 
powerful  through  the  energy  with  which  they  defended  his 
cause.  Many  of  the  minor  satellites  had  looked  to  it  in  order 
to  emerge  from  the  obscurity  in  which  they  would  otherwise 
have  remained  to  the  end  of  their  days.  There  was  hardly  a 
journalist  in  Paris  who  did  not  try  to  pose  either  as  a 
Dreyfusard  or  the  reverse;  they  became  ferocious  in  their 
attacks  according  as  their  professed  opinions  differed.  Every- 
thing which  until  that  time  had  been  considered  sacred  in 
France  was  dragged  in  the  mire  and  became  dirtier  every  day. 
Priests  forgot  their  sacred  character  ;  soldiers  did  not  remember 
the  honour  of  their  flag ;  politicians  renounced  the  creeds 
in  which  they  had  believed  ;  respect  disappeared  from  the 
hearts  of  men  and  from  the  actions  of  the  nation.  One  can 
say  that  France  came  out  of  this  tragedy  dishonoured  before 
the  world — diminished  in  her  own  eyes. 

But  Radicalism  grew  stronger  during  the  struggle  which 
waged  between  the  friends  and  the  adversaries  of  Dreyfus, 
and  certainly  it  was  owing  to  this  struggle  that  anti-militarism 
became  so  prominent  in  France.  It  was  this  episode  which 
taught  the  nation  to  despise  the  army  and  to  rise  against 
its  discipline.  From  this  point  of  view  the  campaign  in  favour 
of  Captain  Dreyfus  did  much  harm  to  France,  but  from  the 
moral  viewpoint  it  is  impossible  not  to  admire  the  feeling  of 
indignation  which  roused  so  many  people  against  the  in- 

325 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

justice  of  a  few.  It  is  only  a  pity  that  this  indignation  was 
so  often  but  the  mask  under  which  lurked  ambitions  that 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  desire  to  see  Captain  Dreyfus 
righted. 

Among  all  the  people  who  were  the  actors  in  this  drama, 
there  are  some  whom  it  is  impossible  to  pass  by.  One  of  them 
is  Colonel  Esterhazy,  that  dark  figure  who  from  accuser 
became  the  defender  of  his  colleague,  who  certainly  knew  more 
about  the  hidden  currents  of  the  whole  affair  than  anyone  else, 
and  who  never  spoke  the  truth  about  it,  even  when  he  turned 
upon  his  former  superiors,  perhaps  because  this  truth  would 
have  been  even  more  shameful  for  him  than  for  those  who 
had  employed  him. 

I  had  occasion  to  meet  Esterhazy  before  the  disgrace 
which  overwhelmed  him  after  the  Dreyfus  trial.  There  was 
a  time  when  he  had  been  a  dashing  cavalry  officer,  much  sought 
after  in  the  most  elegant  of  the  many  elegant  salons  of  Paris. 
I  had  seen  him  at  the  Tuileries,  dancing  vis-a-vis  with  the 
fair  Empress  who  reigned  there,  and  later  on  I  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  watching  him  in  several  houses  where  we  were  both 
frequent  visitors.  He  was  an  amiable  man,  full  of  wit,  and 
exceedingly  amusing  in  his  conversation.  As  for  his  moral 
worth,  no  one  troubled  about  it  at  that  period,  and  though 
from  time  to  time  scandal  of  some  sort  became  associated 
with  his  name,  no  one  could  have  believed  him  capable 
of  the  dark  deeds  which  later  on  stamped  him  with  such  a 
stigma  of  shame  and  unscrupulousness. 

And  yet,  a  man  who  certainly  was  one  of  the  most  observant 
of  his  generation,  Jules  Ferry,  who  was  not  destined  to  see 
all  the  episodes  which  have  rendered  the  Dreyfus  affair  so 
memorable,  meeting  Esterhazy  one  evening,  expressed  to  me, 
as  we  were  going  out  together  from  the  hospitable  house  where 
we  had  dined,  the  profound  distrust  with  which  the  brilliant 

326 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

officer  inspired  him.  "  C'est  un  homme  capable  de  tout," 
he  told  me,  and  when  I  asked  him  what  reasons  he  had  for 
proffering  such  a  severe  judgment  on  a  man  he  did  not  know 
except  superficially — "  Look  at  his  hands,"  he  said,  "  ce  sont 
les  mains  d'un  brigand."  Later,  when  I  saw  Esterhazy 
during  the  Zola  trial,  I  remembered  these  words,  and  glanced 
at  the  hands  of  the  Colonel  as  he  was  giving  evidence  at  the 
bar  ;  they  were  repulsive  in  their  shape,  and  certainly  gave 
one  the  impression  of  being  the  hands  of  a  brigand. 

Esterhazy  was  the  saddest  of  all  the  sad  heroes  of  the 
Dreyfus  affair,  because  the  other  sad  actor  in  the  drama, 
Colonel  Henry,  had  at  least  the  courage  to  seek  in  death  the 
expiation  of  his  crime.  There  has  been  much  talk  about  his 
suicide,  and  some  people  have  expressed  a  doubt  concerning  it, 
suggesting  that  it  had  been  simulated,  and  that  the  Colonel  had 
simply  been  put  out  of  the  way,  as  he  might  have  become 
rather  an  embarrassing  witness.  I  hasten  to  say  that  I  do 
not  believe  in  this  version.  Colonel  Henry  was  a  soldier, 
more  imbued  with  military  discipline  than  Esterhazy ;  he  would 
not  have  been  able  to  face  the  shame  of  a  public  trial,  and 
his  soldier's  soul  would  not  have  found  the  courage  to  accuse 
those  who  had  had  the  right  to  order  him  to  do  the  deed  for 
which  he  was  to  lose  his  life,  and  his  honour  after  death. 

When  I  say  so,  it  is  on  the  authority  of  another  soldier 
who  also  had  had  to  do  with  the  question  of  the  guilt  or 
innocence  of  Captain  Dreyfus,  General  de  Pellieux.  It  was  he 
who  had  read  during  the  debates  of  the  Zola  trial,  when  the 
great  writer  had  been  sent  before  a  jury  to  answer  to  the 
accusation  of  having  published  his  famous  letter,  "  I  accuse," 
the  false  document  manufactured  by  Henry.  It  is  impossible 
to  deny  that  the  General  had  done  so  in  the  full  conviction 
that  it  was  decisive  and  would  make  the  whole  world  share 
his  own  persuasion  as  to  the  guilt  of  Dreyfus.  When, 

327 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

later  on,  M.  Cavaignac,  who  presided  at  the  War  Office,  had 
the  loyalty  to  declare  publicly  that  this  document  was  nothing 
but  a  forgery,  made  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  revision 
of  the  trial  of  the  unfortunate  prisoner  on  Devil's  Island, 
General  de  Pellieux  was  inconsolable.  His  grief  was  that 
anyone  could  believe  he  had  wanted  to  crush  Dreyfus  with 
the  weight  of  an  accusation  which  he  had  known  to  be  false, 
and  it  was  whilst  discussing  with  me  later  on  all  the  details 
of  this  unfortunate  episode  in  his  life  that  he  told  me  his 
opinion  about  Colonel  Henry,  adding  that  he  had  not  the 
slightest  doubt  as  to  the  suicide  of  the  unfortunate  officer. 

Another  rather  strange  feature  of  the  Dreyfus  affair  was 
the  advantages  which  it  procured  to  all  the  enemies  of  the 
Clerical  party.  Unfortunately  for  the  Catholics  and  Legitimists 
in  France,  they  took  up  the  most  intransigent  attitude  in  the 
question.  They  identified  it  with  the  Catholic  Church,  and 
with  its  interests,  and  they  thought  to  find  in  it  the  pretext 
for  a  crusade  against  the  Jews  and  the  Republicans,  declaring 
publicly  that  it  was  only  under  a  Radical  government,  pro- 
tecting the  Israelites,  that  such  an  event  as  the  so-called 
treason  of  Captain  Dreyfus  could  have  taken  place.  And 
among  all  the  enemies  of  Dreyfus,  none  was  more  ardent 
than  Pere  du  Lac,  the  famous  Jesuit,  in  whom  the  Republicans 
found  their  greatest  and  one  of  their  most  powerful  adver- 
saries. Another  thing  which  must  never  be  lost  sight  of  when 
talking  about  the  Dreyfus  affair  is  that  no  one  among  all  his 
defenders  ever  gave  a  thought  to  Dreyfus  himself.  The 
feelings  and  sufferings  of  the  unfortunate  man  were  always 
talked  of,  but  those  who  continually  harped  upon  them  would 
have  been  extremely  sorry  had  the  government  decided  to 
treat  him  well,  or  to  forgive  him  for  his  supposed  crime. 
And  one  cannot  understand  how  among  all  the  ministers  who 
were  in  power  in  France  during  the  years  which  he  spent  in 

328 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

disgrace,  not  one  tried  to  put  an  end  to  the  agitation  by  in- 
augurating the  re-trial  which  was  to  prove  his  innocence. 

I  make  no  excuse  for  again  calling  attention  to  this  fact 
for  I  perceive  that  I  am  doing  exactly  the  same  thing  myself ; 
that,  by  talking  about  the  Dreyfus  affair,  I  forget  entirely  its 
hero,  who  deserves  certainly  more  than  a  passing  mention. 
I  learned  to  know  the  Captain  well  after  his  return  to  France, 
and  I  learned,  also,  to  respect  and  esteem  him.  Any  man  in 
his  place  would  have  harboured  feelings  of  the  most  bitter 
resentment  against  those  to  whom  he  had  owed  such  terrible 
sufferings.  Dreyfus  never  once  allowed  an  expression  of 
anger  to  escape  his  lips.  He  did  not  care  to  talk  about  the 
years  of  his  trial,  but  when  he  was  forced  to  do  so  it  was 
always  in  most  measured  terms,  and  without  the  slightest 
shade  of  a  revengeful  spirit.  He  once  told  me  that,  as  a  soldier, 
he  could  understand  the  feelings  of  those  other  soldiers  who 
had  believed  him  capable  of  betraying  his  country,  but  he 
thought  that  had  he  been  in  the  place  of  his  accusers,  he  would 
have  taken  greater  care  to  verify  the  accusation  against  a 
brother  in  arms  than  had  been  done  in  his  case.  But  whilst 
eager  to  see  justice  done  to  himself,  he  never  approved  of 
the  means  that  some  people  used  in  order  to  bring  this  about. 
Dreyfus  aspired  only  to  one  thing,  and  that  was  to  be  left  in 
peace.  He  accepted  the  rehabilitation  which  was  granted 
to  him,  but  in  his  innermost  heart  he  regretted  rather  than 
otherwise  that  he  had  to  occupy  once  more  the  attention 
of  the  world.  Captain  Dreyfus  was  always  modest  and  retiring 
in  his  disposition  and  character  ;  it  was  just  as  painful  to  him 
to  be  praised  as  to  be  blamed. 

To  tell  the  truth,  he  returned  from  his  exile  a  man  of  broken 
physique  with  shattered  nerve,  and  had  he  been  able  to  do 
what  he  liked,  he  would  have  retired  somewhere  in  the  country, 
far  from  the  madding  crowd,  which  had  in  turns  hissed  and 

329 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

applauded  him.  He  felt  deeply  grateful  to  all  those  who  had 
worked  for  his  release,  but  it  was  painful  to  him  to  have  to 
see  them,  to  mingle  once  more  among  the  world  whose  injustice 
he  had  never  forgotten. 

Captain  Dreyfus  had  an  admirable  wife,  whose  devotion 
has  not  been  sufficiently  appreciated  by  the  public.  She 
behaved  heroically  towards  him,  the  more  so  that  she  was 
not  very  happy  with  him  before  the  catastrophe  that  separated 
them  for  a  while. 

Just  before  the  Captain  was  arrested,  his  wife  had  applied 
for  a  divorce  from  him  ;  but  when  she  heard  him  accused, 
she  immediately  put  an  end  to  the  proceedings  and  devoted 
herself  entirely  to  the  task  of  his  rehabilitation,  sparing 
neither  her  health,  nor  her  efforts,  nor  her  money  in  order 
to  obtain  it. 

When  he  arrived  at  Rennes,  she  had  only  one  thought, 
and  that  was  to  throw  herself  into  his  arms.  Now  the  couple 
live  a  most  happy  life,  but  though  Madame  Dreyfus  has  entirely 
forgotten  that  in  regard  to  her  husband  she  performed  more 
than  her  duty,  he  always  remembers  it,  and  nothing  could  be 
more  touching  than  to  witness  the  reverence  with  which  he 
approaches  her,  or  speaks  about  her.  For  once  the  absolute 
devotion  and  sacrifice  of  a  noble  woman  met  with  gratitude, 
and  was  not  in  vain. 

In  general  all  the  family  of  Captain  Dreyfus  has  stood 
by  him,  with  a  loyalty  beyond  praise.  Mathieu  Dreyfus,  his 
brother,  did  not  allow  the  slightest  opportunity  to  escape 
by  which  he  could  defend  the  accused  man.  He  worked  at 
it  with  a  patience  and  an  energy  worthy  of  the  highest  com- 
mendation, and  never  allowed  himself  to  be  discouraged 
in  his  efforts.  It  was  he,  also,  who  uttered  the  best  definition 
of  his  brother's  case.  When  asked  once  whether  he  did  not 
feel  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  such  a  powerful  party  (to 

330 


The  Dreyfus  Affair 

which  belonged  the  most  distinguished  men  in  France)  had 
taken  up  the  cause  of  Captain  Dreyfus,  he  replied  that,  of 
course,  he  could  not  but  feel  flattered  by  it,  but  that  perhaps 
his  brother  would  have  obtained  the  justice  which  was  due 
to  him  sooner,  if  it  had  not  been  to  the  interest  of  so  many 
people  to  drag  his  case  out  as  long  as  possible,  in  order  to 
reap  personal  advantages  from  it  which  they  would  never 
have  obtained  without  the  opportunity  which  he  had  given 
to  them,  at  the  cost  of  so  much  suffering  and  so  much  unneces- 
sarily borne  shame. 


33* 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

PARISIAN  SALONS  UNDER  THE  THIRD  REPUBLIC 

MADAME  DE  CAILLA VET'S  salon  was  certainly  one  of  the  most 
influential  among  political  and  literary  men  of  the  Third 
Republic.  She  was  one  of  the  leading  women  of  that  period, 
was  moreover  an  excellent  hostess,  and,  thanks  to  the 
continual  presence  of  Anatole  France  in  her  house,  she  suc- 
ceeded in  attracting  many  notables  to  her  salon.  Journalists 
composed  the  majority  of  her  visitors,  and  diplomats  occasion- 
ally came  to  hear  the  last  news  of  the  day,  especially  whilst 
the  Dreyfus  agitation  lasted.  Dramatists  were  always  to 
be  found  at  her  receptions,  colleagues  of  her  son  Gaston 
de  Caillavet,  the  author  of  so  many  amusing  comedies,  whose 
collaborator,  the  Marquis  de  Flers,  the  husband  of  Sardou's 
daughter,  was  also  among  the  number  of  people  who  seldom 
missed  these  friendly  gatherings.  But  in  spite  of  this,  and 
notwithstanding  the  number  of  clever  men  and  pretty  and 
amiable  women  who  clustered  around  her,  to  the  eyes  of  a 
keen  observer  there  was  always  something  Bohemian  about 
her  receptions.  It  was  not  the  salon  of  a  grande  dame,  and 
it  was  no  longer  that  of  a  bourgeoise  of  olden  times :  it  was 
essentially  modern,  like  the  Republic  itself. 

Far  different  from  it  was  the  house  of  Madame  Menard 
Dorian,  also  one  of  the  feminine  stars  of  the  Republic.  Madame 
Dorian  was  a  charming  woman,  who  had  received  an  ex- 
cellent education,  and  who,  coming  as  she  did  from  an  old 
bourgeois  stock,  never  pretended  to  be  aught  else  than  what 

332 


Salons  of  the  Republic 

she  was  by  birth.  She  was  extremely  intelligent,  very  broad 
in  her  opinions,  and  with  many  advanced  ideas  in  regard  to 
religion  and  politics ;  above  everything  else,  she  was  a  lady 
in  her  manners,  her  general  behaviour,  and  her  tastes.  Very 
rich,  she  possessed  a  lovely  house  in  the  Rue  de  la  Faisanderie, 
which  she  had  furnished  with  extreme  taste  and  where  she 
used  to  give  receptions  as  sumptuous  as  they  were  pleasant. 

There  one  could  meet,  together  with  some  of  those  who 
frequented  the  salon  of  Madame  de  Caillavet  and  other 
Republican  hostesses  of  the  same  kind,  persons  belonging 
to  other  classes,  and  forming  part  of  the  aristocratic  circle 
of  Paris.  Academicians  frequented  it,  and  diplomatists  were 
generally  eager  to  be  introduced  to  Madame  Menard  Dorian, 
where  they  ran  no  risk  of  meeting  people  they  would  not  have 
cared  to  become  acquainted  with,  and  where  they  could,  on 
the  other  hand,  get  an  idea  as  to  what  was  going  on  in  Re- 
publican circles.  Madame  Dorian  had  been  a  Dreyfusard, 
but  she  had  been  so  moderately  and  in  a  ladylike  way.  Her 
salon  was  something  like  the  one  of  Madame  Geoffrin  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  with  the  exception  that  no  one  would 
have  dared  to  say  about  it  what  the  Marquise  du  Deffand 
had  told  of  the  former,  that  it  was  "  une  omelette  au  lard." 
One  gossiped  in  it,  in  a  mild  way,  and  became  interested  in 
the  literary  movement  of  the  day,  perhaps  even  more  than  in 
the  political  one. 

M.  Menard  Dorian  used  to  put  in  an  appearance  at  his 
wife's  receptions  now  and  then,  when  he  was  not  too  busy 
to  do  so.  He  was  a  quiet,  pleasant  little  man,  liked  by  every- 
body, and  especially  by  ladies,  who  always  found  him  most 
polite  and  amiable  to  them.  An  evening  party  or  dinner 
given  in  the  Hotel  de  la  Rue  de  la  Faisanderie  was  always 
sure  to  be  a  meeting  place  for  intelligent  and  clever  people, 
and  no  one  who  had  once  been  asked  ever  regretted  it,  but 

333 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

on  the  contrary  was  always  most  eager  for  the  invitation  to 
be  repeated. 

M.  Menard  Dorian  is  now  dead,  and  his  widow  only  sees 
her  friends  occasionally,  and  in  a  quiet  fashion,  having  re- 
frained from  opening  again  the  hospitable  doors  of  her  house 
so  freely  as  in  former  years.  But  she  has  remained  the  same 
amiable  woman  she  always  was,  and  certainly  among  the 
Republican  ladies  of  the  present  day  she  deserves  to  rank 
first.  She  would  have  graced  the  Court  of  any  European 
monarch. 

Madame  Dorian  had  one  daughter  who  had  been  married 
to  Georges  Hugo,  the  grandson  of  Victor  Hugo.  That  marriage 
ended  in  a  catastrophe  and  a  divorce,  after  which  the  young 
Hugo  married  the  first  cousin  of  Mademoiselle  Dorian,  who 
had  attracted  his  fancy  one  morning  when  he  had  met  her 
at  his  mother-in-law's,  together  with  her  husband,  the  sculptor 
Ajalbert. 

The  daughter  of  the  charming  Madame  Dorian  had  a 
curious  personality ;  she  seemed  to  take  a  vicious  pleasure 
in  thwarting  her  parents,  and  making  herself  disagreeable 
to  them  whenever  she  found  the  opportunity.  She  occupied 
a  flat  in  their  house,  the  Hotel  de  la  Rue  de  la  Faisanderie, 
and  on  the  evenings  when  her  father  and  mother  gave  recep- 
tions at  which  the  partisans  of  Captain  Dreyfus,  such  as 
Colonel,  later  on  General,  Picquart,  the  Zolas,  and  their  circle 
of  friends  were  honoured  guests,  Madame  Hugo  used  to  invite 
people  such  as  Drumont  and  the  strongest  anti-Semites  of 
Paris,  so  that  several  times  queer  situations  arose,  and  the 
staunchest  Dreyfusards  entered  by  mistake  the  apartment 
of  one  of  their  worst  enemies,  whilst  one  evening  Henri  Roche- 
fort  himself,  who  for  the  world  would  not  be  seen  at  Madame 
Menard  Dorian's,  was  ushered  into  her  drawing-room  by  a 
footman  who  did  not  know  him  by  sight. 

334 


Salons  of  the  Republic 

That  sort  of  thing,  however,  could  not  go  on  for  any 
length  of  time,  and  when  Pauline  Hugo  left  the  house  of  her 
parents,  her  departure  was  a  relief  to  them.  But  even  after 
her  marriage  to  Herman  Paul,  after  her  divorce  and  Paul's, 
she  did  not  become  reconciled  to  her  father  and  mother. 

Georges  Hugo's  sister,  Jeanne,  was  also  a  strange  kind 
of  person.  She  married  when  quite  young,  Leon  Daudet, 
the  son  of  Alphonse  Daudet,  and  very  soon  ran  away  from 
him  with  the  explorer  Charcot.  It  was  said  that  Daudet 
was  delighted  when  he  divorced  her,  as  they  had  scarcely 
been  a  single  day  without  quarrelling  since  they  married, 
and,  although  a  fervent  Catholic,  he  hastened  to  take  to  him- 
self another  wife. 

The  mother  of  Leon  Daudet,  Madame  Alphonse  Daudet, 
is  also  a  celebrity  in  her  way,  and  gives  receptions  at  which 
the  best  society  of  Paris  can  be  met.  She  has  entirely  re- 
nounced her  bourgeois  origin,  and  only  talks  of  Dukes  and 
Duchesses.  She  labels  herself  a  Clerical  by  conviction  and 
a  Royalist  by  sympathy,  and  frequents  the  houses  of  great 
ladies,  such  as  the  Duchesse  de  Rohan  or  the  Comtesse  Mathieu 
de  Noailles.  Her  second  son,  Lucien  Daudet,  is  a  devoted 
admirer  of  the  Empress  Eugenie.  Among  Republican  hostesses 
I  haven't  yet  mentioned  Madame  Psichari,  the  daughter  of 
Ernest  Renan.  She  has  inherited  the  intelligence  and  the 
art  of  conversation  of  her  father,  and  is  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished women  of  modern  France.  At  her  house  can  be 
met  most  of  the  members  of  the  French  Academy,  and  nearly 
all  the  prominent  literary  men  in  Paris.  Her  receptions  are 
perhaps  a  shade  dull,  and  more  or  less  solemn,  but  always 
instructive  and  always  interesting.  Her  personality  was 
always  singularly  attractive,  and  inspired  great  respect,  because 
her  errors  of  judgment  when  they  occurred  were  always 
sincere. 

335 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Madame  Psichari  was  one  of  the  victims  of  the  divorce 
mania  that  has  lately  taken  hold  of  Parisian  society,  and,  to 
the  great  astonishment  of  her  numerous  friends,  after  more 
than  thirty  years'  matrimony  she  applied  for  a  decree.  She 
had  one  son,  who  occupied  for  a  few  days  the  attention  of 
Paris,  when  at  twenty  years  old  he  married  the  daughter 
of  Anatole  France,  nearly  seventeen  years  his  senior,  to  the 
chagrin  of  both  their  families. 

Madame  Zola,  also,  used  to  receive  her  friends  on  Satur- 
days in  her  little  flat  in  the  Rue  de  Rome.  At  her  house 
could  be  met  all  the  principal  actors  in  the  Dreyfus  drama, 
including  its  hero.  I  must  here  mention  one  fact  that  is 
very  little  known,  that  Zola,  far  from  making  money  out 
of  the  Dreyfus  affair,  as  it  was  said  everywhere  that  he  had 
done,  lost  a  great  deal  by  his  attitude  in  regard  to  it.  His 
novels,  instead  of  being  read  more  than  had  been  the  case 
formerly,  were  on  the  contrary  boycotted,  and  several 
important  papers  for  which  he  wrote  articles,  and  which 
published  his  works  before  they  came  out  in  volume  form, 
closed  their  doors  to  him  after  the  letter  "  J'accuse,"  for  which 
he  was  sent  before  a  jury  at  first  and  to  exile  afterwards. 

Emile  Zola  died,  relatively,  a  poor  man,  and  his  widow 
found  herself  reduced  to  almost  embarrassed  circumstances 
after  his  death.  She  sold  a  great  deal  of  the  furniture  which 
he  had  collected,  gave  up  to  the  State  in  return  for  a  modest 
remuneration  the  villa  of  Medan,  where  he  had  lived  for  so 
many  years,  and  arranged  her  existence  on  quite  a  different 
scale  from  that  which  had  been  her  custom  before  her  widow- 
hood. Zola,  as  well  as  Captain  Dreyfus  himself,  were  the 
only  two  people  who  did  not  profit  by  the  clamour  which 
arose  around  them  and  around  their  actions. 

Talking  about  Dreyfus  reminds  me  of  an  incident  in  his 
story  which,  so  far,  I  believe,  has  never  been  told.  When 

336 


Salons  of  the  Republic 

he  was  languishing  on  the  barren  rock  called  the  Devil's 
Island,  a  Russian  who  had  had  occasion  to  approach  the  Tsar 
spoke  to  Mathieu  Dreyfus,  the  Captain's  brother,  and  advised 
him  to  appeal  to  the  Russian  Sovereign  to  intercede  in  favour 
of  the  Captain.  Mathieu  Dreyfus  said  that  he  would  consult 
his  sister-in-law,  and  reply  in  a  few  days.  When  these  days 
had  elapsed,  he  came  back  and  told  the  man  who  had  made 
the  proposition  that  neither  Madame  Dreyfus  nor  himself 
thought  that  they  had  the  moral  right  to  apply  to  a  foreign 
Monarch,  or  to  ask  his  intervention  in  a  case  that  was  too  im- 
portant for  France  not  to  allow  her  to  dispose  of  it  herself. 
In  general  the  dignity  displayed  by  the  whole  Dreyfus  family 
cannot  sufficiently  be  praised ;  they  all  unanimously  showed 
themselves  superior  to  the  misfortunes  which  assailed  them. 
So  far  all  the  hostesses  of  whom  I  have  spoken  were  long 
past  middle  age,  but  there  was  another  lady,  young  and 
beautiful,  with  a  shade  of  eccentricity  in  her  manners,  who 
also  aspired  to  have  a  salon,  and  to  be  able  to  dictate  to  those 
who  visited  it,  or  at  least  to  suggest  to  them  the  opinions  they 
ought  to  have.  It  was  the  Comtesse  Mathieu  de  Noailles,  a 
Roumanian  by  birth,  coming  from  the  family  of  the  Princes 
of  Brancovan,  whose  mother  had  been  very  well  known  in 
London,  where  her  father,  Musurus  Pasha,  had  occupied  for 
long  the  post  of  Turkish  Ambassador.  The  Princesse  de 
Brancovan  was  one  of  the  best  musicians  of  her  generation, 
and  her  wonderful  talent  for  the  piano  was  famous  among 
her  acquaintances.  She  had  been  handsome,  and  her  daughters 
had  inherited  her  loveliness  as  well  as  her  intellectual  gifts. 
The  eldest  one,  whose  large  dowry  secured  her  an  entrance 
into  the  ancient  aristocratic  family  of  the  Dues  de  Noailles,  has 
made  for  herself  a  name  among  the  poets  of  modern  France. 
Her  books  have  been  widely  read,  and  have  had  a  great  success, 
which  they  deserved,  because  there  was  some  really  genuine 
w  337 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

poetic  inspiration  in  them.  Madame  de  Noailles  has  suc- 
cumbed to  the  vogue  of  eccentricity  ;  she  wears  long  floating 
white  garments  which  trail  out  behind  and  give  her  the  appear- 
ance of  a  fairy  from  the  children's  tales.  She  speaks  languidly, 
as  if  sick  of  a  world  she  would  really  be  very  sorry  to  leave, 
and  looks  disdainfully  at  humanity  in  general. 

The  Comtesse  de  Noailles  used  to  give  parties,  during 
which  she  recited  some  of  her  own  poetry,  and  allowed  her 
great  friend  and  admirer,  the  Comte  Robert  de  Montesquieu, 
to  read  his.  She  did  not  trouble  much  about  her  guests, 
merely  smiled  on  them  when  they  arrived,  and  softly  sighed 
when  she  saw  them  going  away.  She  glided  about  her  lovely 
rooms,  as  the  ghost  of  something  too  beautiful  to  be  real, 
and  she  seemed  to  be  interested  in  nothing  that  did  not  con- 
cern her  personally,  or  that  had  no  association  with  her  books 
or  poems. 

Her  receptions  were  singularly  eclectic.  Apart  from  the 
family,  friends  and  relations  of  the  Noailles,  one  met  people 
who  belonged  to  an  entirely  different  grade — journalists, 
artists,  politicians,  even  those  of  an  advanced  shade  ;  members 
of  the  Republican  government,  and  diplomats  or  foreigners 
happening  to  be  in  Paris.  She  received  them  all  with  the 
utmost  grace,  and  liked  to  see  them  surround  her,  like  the 
satellites  of  her  fame  and  of  her  high  social  position.  In 
its  way  her  vanity  was  as  remarkable  as  it  was  charming. 

Madame  de  Noailles  composed  poems,  the  Comtesse  de 
Grefruhle  wrote  operas  and  sonatas  with  decided  talent. 
Madame  de  Grefruhle  has  played,  and  is  playing  still,  a  very  im- 
portant part  in  Parisian  society.  She  was  by  birth  a  Princess 
de  Chimay,  and  had  married,  without  dower,  the  Count 
GrefTuhle,  whose  fortune  was  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  largest 
in  France,  and  had  at  once  begun  to  exercise  a  considerable 
influence  in  the  circles  in  which  she  moved.  She  was  beautiful , 

338 


Salons  of  the  Republic 

intelligent,  had  great  tact,  and  a  considerable  knowledge  of 
the  world,  liked  to  surround  herself  with  artists  and  musicians, 
to  organise  exhibitions  of  works  of  art,  and  to  help  her  neigh- 
bour as  much  as  she  could. 

Her  salon  was  not  the  meeting-place  of  the  pure  Faubourg 
St.  Germain,  neither  was  it,  on  the  other  hand,  exclusively 
Republican.  But  it  afforded  a  neutral  ground  to  men  be- 
longing to  both  parties,  and  her  receptions  were  never  dull 
nor  banal,  but  on  the  contrary  always  interesting  and  pleasant. 
She  possessed  a  lovely  country  place  near  Paris,  called  Bois 
Boudran,  where  she  entertained  most  sumptuously,  and  where 
she  often  welcomed  foreign  Sovereigns  or  members  of  Royal 
houses,  when  they  happened  to  come  to  France.  Madame  de 
Greffuhle  was  a  woman  essentially  made  for  society,  who 
could  never  have  lived  outside  it.  She  described  herself 
better  than  anyone  else  could  have  done  one  day  when  she 
was  asked  to  write  her  name  on  the  visitors'  book  of  the  Phare 
d'Ailly,  near  Dieppe,  where  some  friends  had  taken  her.  She 
signed  "  Chimay  Greffuhle,  dame  de  qualite,"  thus  admitting 
that  she  had  no  pretensions  to  be  considered  a  grande  dame. 

The  Baron  Henri  de  Rothschild  was  also  "  un  ecrivain 
amateur,"  with  more  pretensions  to  literary  talent  than 
perhaps  that  talent  deserved.  He  had  married  Mile.  Weis- 
willer,  who  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  best-dressed  women 
in  Paris,  and  whose  name  appears  prominently  in  all  the 
chronicles  of  the  Figaro  or  the  Gaulois.  The  couple  entertain 
with  the  hospitality  for  which  their  family  has  always  been 
famous,  and  the  Baron  has  made  for  himself  a  name  among 
the  benefactors  of  the  Paris  poor,  for  whom  he  does  a  great 
deal.  He  has  studied  medicine  and  even  practised  it  with 
all  the  zeal  of  a  millionaire  who  believes  himself  to  have  a 
vocation  for  some  kind  of  science. 

Baron  Henri  is  an   exceedingly  pleasant  man,   cultured, 

339 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  well  read,  capable  of  most  entertaining  conversation  on 
a  variety  of  topics.  The  receptions  which  he  gives,  and  of 
which  his  wife  helps  him  to  do  the  honours  with  an  exquisite 
grace,  are  the  meeting-place  of  almost  all  the  distinguished 
men  of  scientific  and  literary  Paris.  Members  of  the  govern- 
ment can  be  met  at  them,  but  though  his  salon  is  known 
to  be  Liberal  in  its  opinions,  it  is  yet  one  at  which  politics 
have  never  played  a  part  or  been  discussed.  The  guests  suc- 
ceeded in  avoiding  them  even  at  the  tune  of  the  Dreyfus 
affair,  during  which  the  Rothschilds  adopted  an  entirely 
passive  and  impartial  attitude. 

Talking  of  politics  makes  me  think  of  a  house  where  they 
were  always  very  prominent,  and  almost  the  only  subject 
of  conversation.  It  was  the  house  of  M.  Rouvier,  one  of  the 
ablest  politicians  whom  France  has  seen  in  recent  times, 
who  had  occupied,  more  than  once,  important  State  positions, 
and  who  was  always  spoken  of,  among  his  friends,  as  a  possible 
President  of  the  Republic.  M.  Rouvier's  was  a  most  com- 
plicated mind.  He  had  considerable  capacity,  an  intelli- 
gence far  above  the  average,  great  ambition,  and  absolutely 
no  vanity,  perhaps  because  he  had  a  full  consciousness  of 
his  strength  and  of  his  worth  in  presence  of  the  lesser  in- 
telligences with  which  he  was  surrounded. 

He  had  made  his  way  with  the  help  of  a  good  deal  of 
luck,  and  perhaps  more  determination  than  is  generally  met 
with.  There  was  one  moment  in  his  life  when  he  nearly 
became  one  of  the  victims  of  the  Panama  scandal,  but  he 
succeeded  in  emerging  quite  unharmed.  As  a  financier, 
he  very  nearly  approached  genius,  and  when  he  left  office 
almost  all  the  large  banks  in  France  entreated  him  to  join 
their  board.  He  became  director  of  a  large  financial  estab- 
lishment, which  he  managed  with  the  intelligence  and  know- 
ledge that  he  brought  into  everything  which  he  attempted. 

340 


Salons  of  the  Republic 

But  although  he  had  many  partisans  and  more  friends  than 
could  have  been  expected  in  a  man  who  had  held  the  difficult 
posts  which  he  had  successfully  occupied,  though  he  was  in  a 
certain  sense  a  sort  of  small  king,  feared  by  most  of  the 
politicians  who  ruled  France  or  aspired  to  do  so,  he  always 
regretted  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  retire  from  the  govern- 
ment of  his  country.  When  he  died,  he  was  about  to  put 
forward  his  candidature  to  the  Presidency  of  the  Republic, 
in  opposition  to  that  of  M.  Poincare  or  any  other  of  the 
probable  successors  of  M.  Fallieres  at  the  end  of  the  latter's 
septenary. 

M.  Rouvier  had  been  twice  married.  His  first  wife 
was  the  famous  sculptor  known  as  Claude  Vignon,  whose 
first  husband  was  1'Abbe  Constant,  an  unfrocked  priest, 
who  was  later  on  to  be  so  well  known  by  the  name  of  Eliphas 
Levy,  and  who  was  considered  to  be  the  greatest  master 
in  occult  sciences  that  the  world  possessed.  I  met  Eliphas 
Levy  more  than  once,  and  I  was  always  extremely  interested 
in  him.  He  had  a  most  venerable  appearance,  with  his  long 
white  beard,  and  of  all  the  indulgent  men  I  have  ever  met 
he  was  the  one  who  practised  that  virtue  to  the  largest  extent. 
He  lived  absorbed  in  his  studies  of  high  magic,  but  would 
always  carefully  avoid  talking  on  the  subject,  save  with  his 
most  intimate  friends.  He  was  called  uncanny,  I  don't  know 
why,  because  he  certainly  had  the  most  peaceful  countenance 
possible,  but  a  certain  prejudice  used  to  cling  to  him  or  rather 
existed  against  him  at  the  time  I  knew  him  ;  probably  because 
the  fact  of  a  priest  having  given  up  his  profession  appeared 
still  to  be  something  quite  dreadful  in  France. 

Madame  Constant,  or  Claude  Vignon  as  she  was  generally 
called,  had  greatly  contributed  to  the  unfrocking  of  her 
husband,  but  though  he  had  loved  her  passionately,  she  had 
very  soon  tired  of  him,  and  the  couple  separated,  never 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

to  meet  again  so  long  as  they  lived.  She  married  Rouvier, 
to  whom  she  brought  the  very  large  fortune  she  possessed, 
but  died  not  long  after,  leaving  one  son,  with  whom  his  father 
never  could  get  along,  and  whom  one  never  met  at  his  house. 
The  second  Madame  Rouvier  was  a  small,  slight  woman, 
with  golden  curls,  a  most  pleasant  manner,  and  a  charming 
conversationalist.  She  aided  her  husband  quite  admirably, 
interested  herself  in  his  political  career  and  successes,  and 
was  perhaps  even  more  ambitious  than  he.  The  couple 
lived  in  a  splendid  establishment  which  they  possessed  at 
Neuilly,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  where 
they  often  entertained,  and  where  generally  the  latest  news 
of  the  day  was  to  be  heard.  No  political  man  would  have 
dared  to  ignore  M.  Rouvier  and  his  wife,  and  their  salon 
has  been  more  than  once  called  the  "  succursale  du  Senat,"  of 
which  he  was  a  member.  Diplomats  also  were  to  be  met 
in  their  house ;  and  it  was,  indeed,  frequented  by  almost 
everybody  of  note  in  Paris. 


342 


CHAPTER    XXIX 
THE  PRESENT  TONE  OF  PARIS  SOCIETY 

I  HAVE  seen  many  changes  take  place  in  Paris  during  the 
twenty-five  years  of  my  sojourn  in  the  gay  city.  I  cannot 
say  that  all  these  changes  have  been  congenial ;  the  good 
manners  for  which  Frenchmen  were  famous,  certainly  dis- 
appeared simultaneously  with  the  crinoline.  A  laisser  oiler 
has  replaced  the  stiffness  which  at  one  time  made  the  select 
Parisian  houses  so  difficult  of  access  to  the  foreigner.  At 
present  the  American  and  Jewish  elements  have  entirely 
invaded  French  society,  and  imported  into  it  not  only  their 
easy  ways  but  also  an  independence  of  speech  and  action 
which  would  have  horrified  dowagers  of  olden  times.  Sport 
also,  which  was  formerly  unknown,  has  absorbed  the  thoughts 
of  people  who  would  not  have  dreamed  of  it  a  few  years  ago. 
Life  in  hotels  has  done  away  with  the  intimacy  of  the 
home,  and  whereas  formerly  one  only  invited  to  dine  at 
a  restaurant  people  one  would  not  have  cared  to  entertain 
in  one's  own  house,  now  it  is  the  reverse,  and  those  whom 
it  is  desired  to  honour  are  asked  to  lunch  or  to  supper  at  the 
Ritz  or  the  Meurice,  or  some  other  fashionable  place  of  the 
same  kind.  The  refinement  that  was  so  essentially  a  French 
characteristic  has  entirely  disappeared.  Women  have  grown 
loud,  and  men  have  become  coarse,  girls  have  lost  their  modesty, 
and  boys  are  impertinent.  An  altogether  new  world  has 
superseded  that  of  the  Second  Empire. 

The   advent    of   American   millionaires   has   aroused   the 

343 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

desire  to  be  able  to  emulate  their  luxury,  and  the  introduction 
of  Jews  into  the  best  French  society,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts 
of  Drumont  and  other  anti-Semites,  has  done  away  with  the 
prejudice  which  existed  against  them.  Indeed,  Jewish  heir- 
esses are  sought  as  wives  by  bearers  of  some  of  the  oldest  and 
most  aristocratic  names  in  France  ;  Mile.  Ephmssi  has  become 
Princess  de  Lucinge  ;  the  Marquise  de  la  Ferte  Meun  was 
Mile.  Forges  ;  the  Princess  Murat,  the  wife  of  the  head  of 
that  house,  is  the  granddaughter  of  old  Madame  Heine, 
herself  the  only  child  of  the  banker  Furtado  ;  and  the  present 
Princesse  de  Monaco,  whose  first  husband  was  the  Due  de 
Richelieu,  is  the  daughter  of  another  Heine,  also  a  banker, 
whose  many  millions  she  inherited. 

These  new  elements  entering  society  have  necessarily  trans- 
formed it.  Paris  is  now  a  vast  hotel  where  are  met  all  kinds 
of  people,  and  no  one  feels  the  necessity  to  observe  etiquette 
or  restraint.  It  is  a  place  where  the  man  who  pays  can 
obtain  everything  he  wants.  Excepting  in  a  few  houses, 
as  of  old  was  that  of  Madame  Aimery  de  la  Rochefoucauld, 
one  can  meet  everywhere  the  representatives  of  Hebrew 
banking  houses,  or  great  tradesmen,  whom  Parisian  hostesses 
are  but  too  eager  to  invite  to  their  balls  or  receptions,  feeling 
sure  that  it  will  bring  them  some  profit  in  one  shape  or  another. 
Money  is  the  only  thing  that  counts  nowadays.  It  is  so 
everywhere  unfortunately,  but  in  France  it  seems  to  be 
more  potent  than  anywhere  else. 

In  consequence,  society  is  perhaps  smarter  than  it  has  ever 
been,  but  it  is  a  great  question  whether  it  is  so  distinguished, 
and  it  is  certain  that  it  is  no  longer  so  good-mannered. 

If  one  examines  things  carefully,  one  cannot  wonder  at 
it.  When  the  first  heiresses  to  great  fortunes,  but  to  nothing 
else,  were  admitted  into  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  dowagers 
looked  at  them  askance,  and  even  their  husbands  seemed 

344 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

half  ashamed  to  have  been  obliged  to  marry  them.  It  was 
but  natural  that,  repulsed  as  it  were  by  the  people  who  ought 
to  have  opened  their  arms  to  them,  they  should  have  turned 
towards  those  who  belonged  to  their  own  sphere.  The 
nouveaux  were  invited  to  their  parties,  at  which  the  old  aristo- 
cratic representatives  of  monarchical  France  were  at  first 
rather  shy  about  putting  in  an  appearance.  But  very  soon  the 
noblesse  began  to  feel  at  home,  and  there  met  other  heiresses 
whom  in  their  turn  they  were  to  take  to  their  bosoms. 

The  leading  hostesses  in  Paris  at  that  time  were  the 
Duchesse  de  Grammont,  nee  Rothschild ;  the  Duchesse  de 
Doudeauville,  whose  grandmother  was  Madame  Blanc  of 
Monaco  fame ;  the  Comtesse  Bernard  de  Gontaut  Biron,  whose 
father,  M.  Cabibel,  had  not  been  one  of  Lyons'  best  citizens, 
though  he  had  lived  in  that  town  all  his  life  and  made  all 
his  money  there ;  the  Comtesse  de  Tredern,  who  had  been 
Mademoiselle  Say,  and  so  on. 

Money  did  away  with  all  the  differences  which  formerly 
existed  between  the  various  classes  of  society,  and  newspapers 
which  began  to  make  or  to  mar  social  reputations  mentioned, 
as  the  most  fashionable  women  in  fashionable  Paris,  Madame 
Schneider  of  Creusot  fame,  Madame  Pierre  Lebaudy,  Madame 
Deutsch  de  la  Meurthe,  and  the  wives  and  daughters  of  every 
banker  or  industrial  whose  millions  had  opened  the  doors  of 
the  social  Eden  into  which  a  hundred  years  ago  no  one  who 
was  not  an  aristocrat  could  ever  have  hoped  to  enter.  Society 
became  a  haunt  of  millionaires,  even  Monsieur  Chauchard, 
the  owner  of  the  Grands  Magasins  du  Louvre,  would  have 
been  admitted  into  it  easily  had  he  only  lived  long  enough. 

Automobilism,  which  gave  to  so  many  representatives  of 
the  oldest  names  in  France  the  opportunity  to  make  money 
by  fostering  its  popularity,  and  lending  the  support  of  their 
family  connections  to  the  numerous  shareholders'  companies 

345 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

which  sprang  into  existence  at  a  minute's  notice,  contributed 
considerably  also  to  what  I  would  call  the  demoralisation  of 
good  manners.  Many  people,  in  order  to  make  money  through 
this  new  kind  of  sport,  associated  with  persons  of  a  very  low 
social  and  moral  standard,  or  even  simple  mechanicians  were 
admitted  at  first  to  the  Automobile  Club,  and  at  last  into  the 
drawing-rooms  of  its  members.  Much  had  to  be  forgiven  these 
parvenus  of  sport,  many  errors  of  etiquette  overlooked,  but  very 
soon  all  were  forgetting  themselves,  and  instead  of  raising  these 
people  to  its  own  level,  society  came  down  to  theirs.  Ladies,  who 
could  more  easily  dispose  of  the  tickets  of  the  many  charitable 
lotteries,  or  theatre  performances,  which  they  patronised 
among  these  nouveaux  venus  than  in  their  own  circle  of 
acquaintances,  and  who,  in  case  of  necessity,  could  also  apply 
to  them  for  a  small  loan  or  the  settlement  of  an  angry  dress- 
maker's bill,  were  but  too  glad  to  invite  them  to  their  recep- 
tions. So,  little  by  little,  the  salons  of  the  noble  ladies  of 
the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  became  a  kind  of  succursale  of  the 
"  haute  banque  and  haute  finance  "  not  only  of  Paris,  but 
also  of  France  and  of  New  York. 

There  were  some  exceptions  to  this  rule,  but  these  were 
not  frequent.  I  must  mention  as  one  of  these  exceptions 
the  Comtesse  Jean  de  Montebello,  one  of  the  loveliest,  most 
charming,  and  most  intelligent  women  that  Paris  could  boast. 
She  was  the  daughter-in-law  of  that  amiable  Comtesse  Gustave 
de  Montebello,  who  had  been  one  of  the  favourite  ladies 
in  waiting  of  the  Empress  Eugenie.  She  lived  in  the  private 
hotel  which  the  former  had  built  for  herself  in  the  Rue  Barbet 
de  Jouiy,  preserving  all  the  old  traditions  that  were  associated 
with  it,  and  maintaining  the  grave,  serious  tone  for  which 
it  had  been  famous  during  the  Second  Empire. 

Madame  Jean  de  Montebello  is  a  true  type  of  the  great 
lady  ;  her  affable  manners,  the  perfect  distinction  which  she 

346 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

shows  in  conversation,  the  inimitable  grace  and  ease  that 
accompanies  every  one  of  her  movements,  makes  her  a  delight- 
ful creature.  Beautiful  as  a  dream  in  her  youth,  in  her  old 
age  she  has  kept  the  straight,  classic  features,  the  soft  eyes, 
and  the  kind,  joyous  expression  for  which  she  has  always 
been  famous.  Her  wit  is  bright,  without  the  least  shade  of 
ill-nature,  and  she  is  one  of  the  very  few  Frenchwomen  of 
the  higher  classes  whose  conversation  and  culture  constitute 
an  attraction  strong  enough  to  make  one  forget  even  her 
beauty  and  her  other  charms.  She  is  learned  without  being 
a  pedant,  and  no  one  meeting  her  for  the  first  time  would 
guess  that  under  her  pleasant  way  of  greeting  you  is  hidden 
a  knowledge  and  a  love  of  art  and  literature  such  as  unfor- 
tunately is  but  seldom  found  among  the  many  fair  women 
who  throng  the  drawing-rooms  of  brilliant  Paris. 

Madame  Jean  de  Montebello  had  a  cousin,  the  Marquise  de 
Montebello.  For  something  like  ten  years  her  husband 
occupied  the  post  of  French  Ambassador  at  the  Russian  Court. 
The  Marquise  was  not  of  aristocratic  birth,  and  being  uncon- 
ventional in  her  ways,  was  the  subject  of  criticism  in  St. 
Petersburg  society  circles.  The  Marquise  de  Montebello  was 
the  granddaughter  of  Madame  Chevreux  Aubertot,  the  pro- 
prietress of  the  big  shop  called  the  Gagne-Petit,  in  the  Avenue 
de  1'Opera,  in  Paris.  She  was  a  bright,  intelligent,  dashing 
woman,  and  cherished  the  ambition  to  play  a  part  in  European 
politics.  Amusing,  and  utterly  regardless  of  what  people 
might  say  or  think  about  her,  she  naturally  created  an  atmo- 
sphere of  interest  in  her  movements,  especially  as  she  was 
enormously  rich. 

When  she  arrived  in  St.  Petersburg  she  threw  wide  open 
the  doors  of  the  Embassy,  and  entertained  all  who  expressed 
the  desire  to  enjoy  her  hospitality.  She  soon  made  friends  with 
the  Grand  Dukes,  the  brothers  of  Alexander  III.,  who  always 

347 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

preferred  to  accept  hospitality  from  those  people  who  amused 
them  most.  Indeed,  it  was  impossible  not  to  be  amused  in  the 
company  of  Madame  de  Montebello  ;  her  life  was  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  gaiety,  and  her  days  were  filled  with  joyous  hours. 
She  was  essentially  a  person  who  liked  to  see  the  utmost  liberty 
both  of  language  and  of  manners  reign  around  her,  and  who  did 
not  hesitate  to  foster  in  her  salon  a  Bohemian  spirit,  in  order 
that  she  might  in  that  way  attract  to  her  house  the  company 
she  sought.  During  the  many  years  she  was  the  brilliant 
hostess  of  the  French  Embassy,  it  was  a  sort  of  Liberty 
Hall,  where  guests  enjoyed  a  freedom  of  action  seldom  ex- 
perienced in  Diplomatic  circles. 

There  were  some  in  Society  who  disapproved  of  her  ways, 
nevertheless,  when  she  left  Russia  she  was  extremely  regretted 
there,  even  by  those  who  did  not  care  for  her,  because  with  her 
disappeared  a  bright  element  that  always  brought  along  with 
it  some  gaiety,  even  in  the  dullest  circles.  Whilst  she  was 
Ambassadress,  the  French  alliance  was  extremely  popular, 
it  became  less  so  after  she  was  gone. 

The  Marquis  de  Montebello  was  a  diplomat  of  the  old 
school,  pompous,  solemn,  not  esteemed  clever,  but  with  a 
ripened  experience.  He  had  traditions,  knowledge  of  the 
world,  and  understood  perfectly  well  that  his  enormous  wealth 
would  help  his  country  to  win  for  herself  the  friendship  of 
Russia.  He  fulfilled  all  his  duties  with  tact,  and  his  manners 
were  essentially  those  of  a  gentleman  —  quiet,  reserved,  and 
with  a  shade  of  self-sufficiency  which  became  him.  He  made 
himself  just  as  popular  as  his  brilliant  wife,  and  cared  im- 
mensely for  his  position  as  an  Ambassador.  It  broke  his  heart 
when  he  had  to  abandon  it ;  he  never  could  get  reconciled  to 
the  fact,  the  more  so  that  he  was  not  the  favourite  in  Paris 
he  had  been  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  though  the  Marquise  tried 
to  give  receptions  and  dinners  to  all  those  who  cared  to  come 

348 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

to  them,  she  did  not  succeed  in  making  either  herself  or  her 
husband  popular  in  Paris  society,  though  they  contrived 
to  be  admitted  in  several  select  houses,  such  as  the  one  of 
the  Comtesse  Melanie  de  Pourtales. 

Madame  de  Montebello  had  a  great  friend  who  tried  hard 
to  launch  her  into  the  society  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain. 
It  was  the  Comte  Joseph  de  Gontaut  Biron,  the  son  of  the 
former  French  Ambassador  in  Berlin,  the  Vicomte  de  Gontaut 
Biron,  and  one  of  the  most  popular  men  in  the  whole  of  Paris, 
who  usually  did  the  honours  of  the  city  when  Russian  Grand 
Dukes  visited  it.  The  Comte  de  Gontaut  was  the  only  handsome 
member  of  a  very  ugly  family  which  had  redeemed  its  want 
of  beauty  by  unusual  cleverness.  He  had  been  married  to 
a  Princesse  de  Polignac,  whose  heart  he  had  very  soon  broken, 
and  whose  fortune  he  had  quite  as  soon  squandered.  The 
Gontauts  occupied  a  privileged  position  in  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain,  thanks  to  their  numerous  alliances  and  to 
their  many  relatives.  The  elder  members  of  the  family, 
such  as  the  Comtesse  Armand,  or  the  Princesse  de  Beauvau, 
tried  to  maintain  the  traditions  of  their  race,  and  could  be 
classified  among  the  hautes  et  puis sanies  dames  of  their  genera- 
tion, but  the  younger  members  had  mixed  freely  with  the 
other  elements  of  Paris  society,  and  had  assimilated  their 
characteristics  as  well  as  those  of  their  own  circle. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  Comte  Boni  de  Castellane,  the  former 
husband  of  Miss  Anna  Gould.  His  father,  the  Marquis  de 
Castellane,  had  at  one  time  played  a  part  in  French  politics, 
when  he  had  been  a  member  of  the  first  Assemblee  Nationale, 
which  had  elected  M.  Thiers  as  President  of  the  Republic, 
or  rather  the  Executive  power  as  it  was  called  at  that  time. 
Unpleasant  incidents  of  a  private  nature  had  obliged  him  to 
leave  public  life,  and  also  to  retire  from  several  clubs  of  which 
he  had  been  a  member.  But  he  had  contrived  to  keep  afloat 

349 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

in  the  Faubourg,  and  was  rather  feared  there  on  account 
of  the  sharpness  of  his  tongue  and  the  ill-nature  with  which 
he  repeated  all  the  gossip  which  he  spent  his  time  in  collecting. 
He  was  extremely  intelligent,  and  had  none  of  the  foppery 
which  made  his  son  so  thoroughly  disagreeable ;  he  would 
certainly  have  been  a  man  who  could  have  made  his  way 
in  the  world  had  he  only  tried  to  conform  to  the  tenets  of 
society. 

His  second  son  married  the  widow  of  Prince  Furstenberg, 
who  was  a  cousin  of  his,  being  the  daughter  of  the  old  Due 
de  Sagan  and  of  his  second  wife,  Mademoiselle  Pauline  de 
Castellane,  and  considerably  older  than  himself.  The  Comtesse 
Jean  de  Castellane  is  at  the  present  moment  one  of  the  leading 
hostesses  in  Paris.  She  is  clever,  with  excellent  manners, 
with  tendencies  to  pose  as  a  woman  of  culture,  and  not  dis- 
daining to  write  now  and  then  little  articles  in  the  daily  papers, 
which  are  always  accepted  with  pleasure  on  account  of  the 
signature  which  accompanies  them.  She  could  never  be  taken 
for  anything  else  but  a  lady,  but  I  doubt  whether  one  would 
at  once  call  her  a  grande  dame  in  the  sense  in  which  this  word 
was  understood  formerly. 

I  think  I  have  mentioned  the  name  of  the  Comtesse  de 
Tredern.  That  lady  certainly  deserves  more  than  a  passing 
mention.  She  was  a  Mile.  Say,  the  sister  of  the  Princesse 
Amedee  de  Broglie,  and  she  had  married  when  quite  young 
the  Marquis  de  Brissac,  the  eldest  son  of  the  Due  de  Brissac, 
who  was  killed  during  the  Franco-German  War.  Left  a  widow 
with  two  children,  she  began  first  to  restore  the  castle  of 
Brissac  in  Anjou,  which  is  considered  one  of  the  finest  private 
residences  in  France,  and  which  she  bought  from  her  father- 
in-law.  Then  she  married  the  Comte  de  Tredern,  from  whom 
she  parted  after  a  few  years  of  troublous  union.  Since  then 
she  has  queened  it  at  Brissac,  or  in  her  beautiful  house  of  the 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

Place  Vendome,  where  she  regularly  gives  sumptuous  enter- 
tainments. 

Among  other  hostesses  I  must  say  a  word  concerning  the 
Duchesse  de  Gramont,  a  Jewess  and  the  daughter  of  Baron 
Amschel  de  Rothschild  of  Frankfurt.  She  was  one  of  the 
few  really  grandes  dames  of  Paris.  Clever,  full  of  tact,  and 
kind  and  good,  as  few  women  have  been  kind  and  good, 
she  was  essentially  a  great  lady,  and  made  for  herself  friends 
wherever  she  went.  Her  husband  is  now  married  to  an  Italian 
Princess,  whom  he  took  to  his  heart  a  few  months  after  the 
death  of  the  Duchesse  Marguerite,  but  the  latter  is  not  for- 
gotten by  the  world  which  she  graced  and  adorned,  and 
where  her  early  death  caused  more  sincere  sorrow  than  is 
generally  expressed  in  the  circle  to  which  she  belonged. 

Madame  de  Gramont  had  a  sister  who  became  the  Princesse 
de  Wagram,  and  who  was  also  a  favourite  in  Parisian  society, 
where  she  won  for  herself  a  great  position.  Unfortunately 
she  also  died  young,  and  with  her  disappeared  one  of  the  last 
great  ladies  in  France. 

Foreigners  form  an  important  contingent  in  Paris  society. 
The  gay  town  has  always  attracted  wandering  souls  eager 
to  find  in  strange  places  what  they  cannot  get  at  home,  and 
who  have  succumbed  so  well  to  its  charms  that  they  lack  the 
courage  to  leave  it.  A  numerous  company  of  Americans  and 
Russians  met  in  society  live  in  the  new  district  about  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe,  and  they  visit  all  the  houses  where  entertain- 
ments are  going  on.  Polish  emigrants  and  Polish  aristocracy 
have  found  their  headquarters  in  the  He  St.  Louis  at  the  Hotel 
Lambert,  where  Prince  Ladislas  Tsartoryski,  the  husband 
of  Princess  Marguerite  of  Orleans,  opened  the  doors  of  his 
magnificent  residence  to  them  with  unbounded  hospitality. 

Several  members  of  the  Radziwill  family  also  settled 
by  the  Seine,  after  the  marriage  of  one  of  them  with 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  daughter  of  M.  Blanc,  the  owner  of  the  Monaco  gambling 
house.  He  was  the  father  of  the  present  Duchesse  de  Dou- 
deauville.  The  Counts  Branicki  and  their  connections  bought 
themselves  houses  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Rue  de  Pen- 
thievre,  where  the  chief  of  the  race  had  settled.  There 
hostility  to  the  Russian  Government  was  fanned  by  every 
possible  device,  and  there  hatred  against  Russia  was  preached 
with  an  energy  worthy  of  a  better  cause. 

The  Russian  colony  was  also  an  important  one.  It  lacked, 
however,  a  rendezvous,  and  it  had  to  submit  to  constant  rebuffs 
on  the  part  of  its  own  Embassy  and  Consulate,  where  it  is 
the  fashion  to  repulse  all  the  compatriots  who  call  there 
unless  they  belong  to  the  ultra-smart  set  which  is  in  posses- 
sion of  influence  in  St.  Petersburg  official  circles.  Several 
Russian  Grand  Dukes,  who  had  become  constant  inhabitants 
of  the  French  capital,  gave  their  colony  an  appearance  of 
splendour  which  other  foreign  quarters  lacked.  Foremost 
among  these  scions  of  the  Russian  Imperial  house  was  the 
Grand  Duke  Paul,  who,  after  his  marriage  with  the  divorced 
wife  of  one  of  the  officers  of  his  own  regiment,  had  left  his 
fatherland  and  settled  in  Paris  permanently.  He  goes  about 
a  great  deal  in  society,  where  his  wife,  who  has  been  created 
Countess  of  Hohenfelsen  by  the  Prince  Regent  of  Bavaria, 
is  treated  like  a  Grand  Duchess,  and  in  society  given  the  pre- 
cedence of  one. 

Life  in  smart  Paris  to-day  is  totally  different  from  life 
as  it  was  in  the  time  of  the  Second  Empire.  Sport  has 
entered  into  it,  and  is  now  one  of  its  principal  functions. 
Everyone  who  can,  or  who  cannot,  afford  it  possesses  an 
automobile,  and  thinks  himself  obliged  to  make  a  show  of 
it  in  the  morning  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  which  is  also  in- 
vaded before  lunch  by  a  bevy  of  fair  ladies  who  pretend 
they  come  there  to  do  some  walking,  but  who  in  reality  want 

352 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

only  to  show  themselves  and  to  see  others.  It  is  there  that 
all  the  gossip,  which  later  on  in  the  afternoon  is  spread  at 
many  tables,  finds  its  origin,  and  where  reputations  are  marred 
and  lost.  It  is  there  that  "  accidental  "  meetings  take  place 
either  at  polo  or  at  some  exhibition,  or  at  one  of  the 
numerous  tea-houses  that  have  sprung  up  on  all  sides  lately, 
where  the  Parisienne  comes  to  eat  cakes,  and  not  to  drink 
tea,  with  which  she  is  not  yet  sufficiently  familiar.  From 
ten  to  twelve  o'clock  everybody  worth  knowing  is  to  be  met 
in  the  Bois,  where  it  is  fashionable  to  be  seen  at  that  hour, 
and  where  no  one  would  care  to  go  later  or  earlier. 

The  afternoon  offers  other  kinds  of  pleasures,  and  fashion- 
able society,  after  a  pause  at  the  aforementioned  tea-houses, 
repairs  either  to  the  races  or  to  some  exhibition,  or  more  often 
in  summer  time  to  the  polo  ground  at  Bagatelle,  where  it 
likes  to  watch  the  game.  The  players  belong  to  the  most 
elegant  men  about  town,  and  think  that  the  fact  of  taking 
part  in  polo  confers  on  them  the  reputation  of  being  real 
sportsmen.  The  evenings  are  spent  either  at  a  ball  or  at  a 
reception,  but  late  hours  are  not  now  the  custom  in  Paris, 
and  midnight  generally  sees  the  fashionable  birds  in  their 
beds. 

There  is  no  serious  interest  in  that  kind  of  existence,  no 
conversations  worthy  of  being  so  called,  except  now  and 
then  by  the  greatest  of  chances.  The  witty,  clever  French 
society,  the  salons  which  had  such  a  universal  reputation 
in  olden  times,  have  all  disappeared  with  the  snows  of  the 
many  winters  that  have  elapsed  since  the  days  when  they 
ruled  public  opinion,  and  when  their  influence  was  felt  every- 
where, often  in  politics  and  always  in  literature,  which  had  to 
conform  more  or  less  to  their  rules,  and  which  would  not  have 
cared  to  offend  their  good  taste.  Parisian  society  has  degen- 
erated, it  is  impossible  to  deny  it,  degenerated  on  account  of 

x  353 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

the  many  foreign  elements  that  have  invaded  it,  and  also 
on  account  of  the  importance  which  money  has  acquired, 
an  importance  that  has  taken  the  place  occupied  formerly 
by  intelligence,  beauty,  virtue — all  the  things  which  ought 
to  be  respected,  but  which  we  are  apt,  now,  to  forget  when 
we  find  them  associated  with  that  money  which  is  the  only 
god  whose  supremacy  is  acknowledged  in  that  Paris  which 
thinks  itself  the  capital  of  the  world,  but  which  is  only  the 
purveyor  of  most  of  its  evil  pleasures. 

Not  only  in  society  as  a  whole  is  this  laxity  of  demeanour 
and  conduct  discernible,  but  there  is  a  perceptible  loosening 
of  the  laws  which  used  to  govern  legislators  and  officials. 
What  men  would  formerly  consider  as  impinging  upon  their 
honour  is  no  longer  looked  at  askance,  and  so  things  happen 
which  leave  an  unpleasant  memory.  This  has  been  observed 
in  certain  activities  in  the  financial  world. 

In  an  earlier  part  of  these  reflections  I  have  spoken  of  the 
Panama  affair,  and  in  the  present  chapter  I  have  made  some 
reference  to  the  money-fever  that  pervades  Paris  to-day. 
It  is  therefore  only  necessary  here  to  be  very  brief. 

There  was  a  great  outcry  and  a  wealth  of  righteous  indigna- 
tion at  the  Panama  disclosures,  but  it  is  difficult  to  perceive 
any  improvement.  There  have  been  scandals  of  recent  date, 
the  echoes  of  which  reverberate  even  in  1914,  and  in  which 
just  as  many  people  were  implicated  whose  names  and  social 
position  ought  to  have  put  them  above  sordid  intrigues. 
Paris  has  always  offered  an  excellent  ground  for  financiers 
of  doubtful  moral  standing.  Every  paper  has  advertisements 
offering  to  the  innocent  public  every  kind  of  facility  to  enable 
it  to  lose  its  money.  With  the  help  of  a  press  willing  to  print 
anything  provided  it  is  paid  for  at  a  sufficiently  high  rate, 
shares  not  worth  the  paper  they  are  printed  upon  are  thrown 
upon  the  market,  and  are  eagerly  bought  by  credulous  creatures 

354 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

who  believe  blindly  in  what  their  papers  tell  them,  and  who 
look  forward  to  large  benefits  out  of  the  promised  rise  of  the 
said  shares.  That  rise  never  comes,  and  then  sometimes  an 
angry  dupe  inquires  of  the  police,  generally  without  success, 
as  to  the  reason  why  no  redress  can  be  obtained.  The 
man  in  the  street  holds  and  expresses  emphatic  opinions, 
which  if  people  believed  were  true  would  mean  that  the  cor- 
ruption of  Republican  government  surpasses  everything 
of  the  kind  that  ever  flourished  at  the  time  of  the  Second 
Empire,  about  the  venality  of  which  so  much  has  been 
written  and  spoken. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  present-day  finance,  it  is  enough 
to  remind  the  reader  of  the  gigantic  frauds  which  Madame 
Humbert  was  able  to  perpetrate  for  so  many  years,  of  the 
ease  with  which  Cornelius  Herz  and  Arton  were  able  to  escape 
from  the  grip  of  the  law,  and  of  the  facility  which  the  famous 
Rochette,  the  hero  of  the  last  financial  scandal  that  France 
can  boast,  found  in  avoiding  being  imprisoned  or  obliged  to 
give  up  any  portion  of  his  ill-gotten  gains.  Rochette  succeeded 
in  avoiding  every  pursuit  for  a  long  time,  though  numerous 
complaints  had  been  made  against  him.  It  was  said  that  the 
complaints  had  always  been  left  unexamined  under  the  pre- 
tence that  they  proceeded  from  people  who  simply  wanted 
blackmail.  It  is  no  secret  that  several  deputies  were  great 
friends  with  that  successful  financier,  during  whose  reign 
their  stock  exchange  operations  were  always  profitable. 

Rochette  is  a  curious  example  of  the  ease  with  which 
any  man  gifted  with  sufficient  impudence  can  become  an 
important  personage.  He  began  his  career  by  being  a  waiter 
in  a  small  hotel  at  Melun,  soon  tired  of  it,  and  went  to  Paris, 
where  he  obtained  a  situation  as  office  assistant  in  one  of 
those  financial  establishments  which  flourish  for  a  few  months 
and  disappear  together  with  their  directors  into  the  unknown 

355 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

after  a  brief  and  brilliant  existence.  His  experience  there 
helped  him  considerably  in  his  future  life.  He  learned  to  avoid 
mistakes  into  which  a  novice  in  finance  would  be  apt  to  fall. 
It  is  said  that  he  profited  by  the  whispered  advice  that 
"  in  order  to  be  a  lucky  financier,  one  must  before  everything 
have  a  deputy  in  one's  pocket." 

When  he  became  a  banker  and  a  director  of  several  large 
concerns,  he  frequented  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and  even 
honoured  with  his  attention  the  Senate.  He  affected  great 
modesty,  but  took  care  to  be  kept  well  informed  as  to  the 
private  means  of  several  important  personages  whose  pro- 
tection he  thought  might  be  of  use  to  him  in  the  future,  and 
he  managed  in  an  unobtrusive  way  to  make  himself  indis- 
pensable to  them. 

When  the  end  came  it  was  rumoured  in  Paris  that  most 
scandalous  facts  were  about  to  come  to  light,  and  that  the 
Panama  affair  would  be  eclipsed  by  them.  Names  were  men- 
tioned, at  first  secretly  then  quite  loudly,  until  at  last  they 
found  their  way  into  the  newspapers.  But,  somehow,  the 
inquiry  which  had  been  begun  dragged  on  until  the  public  got 
tired  of  hearing  nothing  about  it,  and  made  up  its  mind 
not  to  think  any  more  about  the  affair.  In  the  meantime 
in  prison  Rochette  was  leading  the  best  kind  of  life  possible 
under  the  circumstances,  had  all  the  comforts  which  money 
allowed  him  to  procure  for  himself,  received  visits  from  his 
numerous  friends,  and  when  at  last  he  was  released  on  bail 
pending  his  trial,  he  declared  to  all  those  who  cared  to  hear 
it,  that  he  would  not  only  prove  his  innocence,  but  find  people 
willing  to  trust  him  with  their  money  again,  in  spite  of  his 
recent  misadventures. 

And  when  he  was  sentenced  to  several  years'  imprisonment, 
Rochette  quietly  took  a  railway  ticket  and  disappeared  into 
an  unknown  land,  which  probably  is  not  very  far  from  the 

356 


Paris  Society  of  To-day 

scene  of  his  former  exploits;  sure  that  no  one  is  going  to 
discover  him  in  the  refuge  which  he  had  chosen,  he  is  awaiting 
with  the  greatest  confidence  and  calm  the  expiration  of  the 
time  when  proscription  will  allow  him  to  reappear  in  Paris, 
and  to  begin  again  the  financial  career  which  he  was  obliged 
to  interrupt  for  a  short  period. 

How  was  it  possible  for  Rochette  to  escape  whilst  Charles 
de  Lesseps  and  his  father  were  obliged  to  drink  to  the  dregs 
the  cup  of  their  humiliation  ?  The  reply  is  very  simple, 
perhaps  obvious,  and  I  hesitate  to  doubt  the  reader's  per- 
ception by  uttering  it. 

When  the  great  Lesseps  was  accused  of  having  tried  to 
buy  the  support  of  some  members  of  the  Parliament,  everyone 
cried  out  that  it  was  a  scandal  which  ought  to  be  punished 
as  severely  as  possible  ;  but  when  it  was  proved  that  Rochette 
had  succeeded  in  buying  or  winning  over  to  his  side  some  of 
the  most  influential  political  people  in  France,  that  he  had 
even  secured  the  indulgence  of  judges  who  ought  to  have 
been  at  least  impartial,  the  public  only  shrugged  its  shoulders, 
and  some  persons  were  even  found  to  say  that  after  all  he 
had  been  un  homme  tres  fort,  and  that  it  was  better  to  be 
his  friend  than  his  enemy.  When  Rochette  was  arrested, 
excuses  without  number  were  found  for  him,  and  he  was  re- 
presented to  be  the  victim  of  private  vengeances  and  private 
blackmail.  Times  are  changed  indeed,  and  not  only  the 
opinions  of  men,  but  also  their  ideas  as  to  right  and  wrong. 


357 


CHAPTER   XXX 

M.  FALLIERES  AS  PRESIDENT 

THE  septenary  of  M.  Loubet  had  come  to  an  end.  No  one 
had  ever  given  a  thought  to  the  possibility  of  his  presenting 
himself  for  re-election,  and  he  himself  was  but  too  glad  to 
relinquish  the  burden  of  office.  M.  Loubet,  in  spite  of  all 
that  has  been  said  about  him,  was  not  the  insignificant  per- 
sonage some  had  tried  to  represent  him.  He  had  been  elected 
through  the  influence  of  the  Radical  party,  but  he  had  never- 
theless the  strength  of  character  to  resist  the  desires  or 
even  the  orders  of  that  same  party  on  several  occasions  when 
he  thought  they  wanted  to  go  too  far. 

Popular  opinion  has  it  that  this  was  sufficient  to  arouse 
the  ire  of  M.  Clemenceau,  who,  faithful  to  his  tactics  of  holding 
in  hand  the  leading  strings  of  the  government,  furious  to 
see  his  intentions  frustrated,  declared  war  against  M.  Loubet. 

The  latter  was  clever  enough  to  appear  to  ignore  it,  and 
arranged  matters  so  as  to  retire  from  the  Presidency  with  all 
the  honours  of  war,  leaving  to  his  successor  the  task  of 
coping  with  the  difficulties  which  the  Radical  party  seemed 
determined  to  put  in  the  way  of  every  President  of  the 
Republic. 

His  successor,  M.  Fallieres,  was  elected  largely  through 
the  influence  of  M.  Clemenceau.  M.  Fallieres  was  essentially 
a  peaceful  man.  He  had  accepted  the  position  of  President 
of  the  Republic,  partly  because  he  did  not  like  to  disobey 
the  orders  of  his  superiors,  and  partly  because  he  was  a  careful 

358 


M.  Fallieres  as  President 

man,  an  excellent  father,  and  saw  in  his  septenary  the  oppor- 
tunity to  improve  the  material  prospects  of  his  children. 

It  was  during  his  tenure  of  office  that  the  Dreyfus  affair 
came  to  a  close,  and  that  the  Captain  was  not  only  rehabilitated 
but  also  rewarded  for  his  sufferings  with  the  Legion  of  Honour, 
in  spite  of  the  outcries  which  this  decision  raised  among  the 
Clericals  and  the  anti-Semites.  It  was  also  he  who  signed 
the  decree  granting  burial  in  the  Pantheon  to  the  ashes  of 
Zola,  and  it  was  during  his  septenary,  moreover,  that  relations 
were  definitely  broken  with  the  Vatican.  The  last  event  pro- 
duced a  great  sensation,  especially  when  the  representative 
of  the  Papal  Nuncio,  Mgr.  Montagnini,  was  expelled  from 
Paris  by  the  police  in  about  as  brutal  a  way  as  it  was  possible 
to  conceive 

Much  has  been  written  concerning  that  last  measure 
of  which,  let  it  be  said  en  passant,  neither  M.  Fallie'res 
nor  the  French  Government  had  any  reason  to  be  proud. 
It  was  one  of  those  acts  of  violence  which  only  tend  to  ex- 
asperate the  public  mind  against  those  who  render  themselves 
guilty  of  the  indiscretion,  but  which  is  of  no  importance  in 
reality.  Of  course  Mgr.  Montagnini  had  not  behaved  with  the 
necessary  tact  in  the  delicate  position  wherein  he  found  himself 
placed,  but  if  he  had  had  to  do  with  gentlemen  they  would 
have  asked  him  to  go  away  of  his  own  accord,  which  he  would 
probably  have  been  but  too  glad  to  do,  and  they  would  not 
have  expelled  him  mania  militari.  M.  Fallieres,  in  spite  of  his 
middle-class  education,  felt  this,  and  it  is  said  that  he  vainly 
tried  to  avoid  this  scandal.  The  Radical  party,  however,  had 
laid  down  its  conditions  not  only  to  him,  but  also  to  M.  Clemen- 
ceau,  and  the  latter  with  all  his  cleverness  and  his  energy 
was  not  strong  enough  to  refuse  it  this  satisfaction,  which 
was  craved  with  persistence  and  in  such  imperative  terms. 

I  knew  Mgr.  Montagnini  very  well,  and  I  happened  to 

359 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

call  on  him  on  the  eve  of  the  day  which  saw  him  thrown  out 
of  France  with  such  unnecessary  brutality.  He  had  been 
warned  of  the  measures  about  to  be  taken  against  him,  but 
would  not  believe  in  its  possibility.  When  I  asked  him  why 
he  had  not  telegraphed  to  Mgr.  Merry  del  Val,  then  Secretary 
of  State  of  the  Holy  See,  asking  permission  to  leave  of 
his  own  accord,  he  replied  to  me  that  it  would  have  been 
useless,  because  that  permission  would  never  have  been  granted 
to  him.  As  I  expressed  my  astonishment  he  explained  to 
me  at  length  that  Rome  wanted  the  French  Government 
to  resort  to  violence  against  its  representative  because  it  would 
only  raise  the  prestige  of  the  Church  and  provoke  general 
indignation  against  its  persecutors. 

"  All  this  will  pass,"  he  added ;  "  many  months  will  not 
go  by  before  the  very  government  which  does  not  hesitate 
to  insult  a  priest  and  the  official  representative  of  the  Pope 
will  find  itself  obliged  to  renew  relations  with  the  Holy  See. 
So  many  questions  will  arise  in  connection  with  this  separa- 
tion of  the  Church  and  State,  of  which  the  French  Radicals 
are  so  proud,  that  they  will  very  soon  see  the  mistake  they 
have  made." 

Though  Mgr.  Montagnini  was  not  a  prophet  by  any  means, 
he  proved  in  this  particular  case  to  be  right,  because  in  spite 
of  the  open  rupture  of  the  French  Republic  with  the  Vatican, 
relations  were  never  entirely  interrupted  between  Rome 
and  Paris.  Indeed  it  would  have  been  impossible,  because 
in  spite  of  the  hatred  for  the  Catholic  Church  which  the  leading 
politicians  in  France  affected,  they  had  on  different  occasions 
to  turn  to  the  representatives  of  the  clergy  for  help,  and  they 
did  not  disdain  even  to  ask  them  to  use  their  influence  when- 
ever they  wanted  a  candidate  to  be  elected  either  in  the  Senate 
or  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  who  under  the  mask  of 
being  a  moderate  Liberal,  was  in  reality  a  Radical  of  the 

360 


Photo:  Aadars,  Paris, 

M.    A.    FALLIERES 
(President  1906-1913) 


Photo :  Braun,  Paris, 
M.    R.    POINCARE 
(President  1913) 


Photo :  Gcrschel,  Paris. 

M.   A.   BRIAND 


Photo:  Gersc/icl,  Paris, 
M.   G.  CLEMENCEAU 


M.  Failures  as  President 

purest  water,  and  a  fervent  partisan  of  M.  Clemenceau  and 
his  group. 

It  was  at  that  time  that  the  star  of  M.  Clemenceau  began 
to  ascend  higher  in  the  heavens  than  it  had  ever  been. 
Until  the  election  of  M.  Fallieres,  he  had  more  or  less  ruled 
in  the  dark,  and  as  it  were  en  cachette.  When  his  candidate 
had  been  given  the  first  position  in  the  State  the  hour  of  his 
triumph  sounded. 

M.  Clemenceau,  in  spite  of  all  that  has  been  said,  had 
never  been  a  partisan  of  the  Russian  alliance.  His  sympathies 
were  entirely  English.  He  had  been  the  object  of  the  special 
attention  of  King  Edward,  and  his  political  plans  comprised 
a  strong  Franco-English  friendship,  which  would  prove  to 
be  a  shield  in  case  of  a  new  war  with  Germany. 

M.  Clemenceau  would  not  have  been  sorry  to  see  war. 
He  was  far  too  shrewd  not  to  notice  that  in  spite  of  the  violent 
attacks  of  a  certain  portion  of  the  press  against  Germany, 
the  majority  of  the  nation  did  not  any  longer  harbour  such 
feelings  of  hatred  against  their  eastern  neighbour  as  formerly 
existed.  More  than  that,  a  good  many  people  thought  that 
it  would  be  better  to  reconcile  oneself  to  facts,  and,  by  an 
understanding  with  the  German  Government,  to  avoid  the 
heavy  taxes  which  the  increased  armaments  imposed  on  the 
country.  These  armaments  were  not  popular  among  the  greater 
number  of  Frenchmen.  Forty  years  had  gone  by  since  the 
war  of  1870,  and  a  new  generation  had  succeeded  to  the  one 
that  had  witnessed  the  unexampled  disasters  which  had  brought 
about  the  fall  of  the  Second  Empire.  That  younger  generation 
could  not  feel  in  the  same  way  as  its  fathers  had  done ;  it 
only  saw  that  France  was  prosperous,  and  that  a  war,  even 
if  it  turned  out  to  be  successful,  could  but  increase  the  military 
burdens  of  the  country.  This  appealed  to  no  one,  and  con- 
sequently a  renewal  of  hostilities  with  Germany  was  not 

361 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

desired.  M.  Clemenceau,  on  the  contrary,  had  rabid  anti- 
German  feelings,  and  he  encouraged  what  chauvinist  tendencies 
still  existed  in  France,  and  tried  to  persuade  the  leading 
men  in  England  that  the  conclusion  of  an  understanding 
with  France  would  prove  of  infinite  advantage  to  both 
countries. 

Unfortunately  Russia  could  not  be  left  out  of  this  under- 
standing, and  M.  Clemenceau  had  perforce  to  submit  to  the 
fact,  but  he  did  his  best,  nevertheless,  to  destroy  the  Russian 
sympathies  which  existed  in  his  fatherland  by  urging  the 
newspapers  which  were  at  his  disposal  to  say  that  in  signing 
the  famous  Franco- Russian  alliance,  which  had  been  the 
cause  of  so  much  joy,  France  had  been  the  dupe — France  who 
had  given  her  money,  and  France  who  had  thrown  herself 
into  the  arms  of  Russia,  whilst  the  latter  had  taken  all  that 
she  had  been  offered,  without  giving  anything  in  return  for 
the  gifts  freely  showered  on  her  with  a  more  than  generous 
hand. 

Nevertheless,  M.  Fallieres  started  for  St.  Petersburg, 
as  in  duty  bound,  almost  immediately  after  his  election, 
conforming  himself  thus  to  the  tradition  which  had  been 
handed  over  by  M.  Felix  Faure  to  his  successors. 
He  was  warmly  welcomed  on  the  banks  of  the  Neva,  but 
welcomed  only  by  the  government  and  officials  who  followed 
the  lead  given  to  them  by  the  Sovereign.  The  country  itself 
remained  very  indifferent  during  his  visit,  and  the  attitude 
of  the  public  was  not  at  all  what  it  had  been  when  Felix 
Faure  had  arrived  at  Peterhqf  to  return  the  memorable 
visit  of  Nicholas  II.  in  Paris.  Somehow  the  alliance  was  more 
accepted  as  an  accomplished  fact  than  as  an  advantage. 
In  Russia,  too,  the  hour  of  disillusion  had  struck. 

M.  Fallieres,  in  spite  of  what  had  been  said  of  him, 
was  very  far  from  being  the  nonentity  he  was  reported  to 

362 


M.  Fallieres  as  President 

be.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  an  unusual  amount  of  common 
sense,  and  was  not  slow  to  notice  the  change  in  the  political 
atmosphere  of  the  day.  Nevertheless,  he  did  his  best  to 
disguise  from  the  public  the  fact  of  the  coolness  which  had 
begun  to  replace  the  mutual  enthusiasm  of  France  and  Russia 
for  each  other,  but  when  he  returned  home  he  began  to  listen 
more  than  he  had  done  formerly  to  the  advice  of  M.  Clemenceau, 
and  to  look  towards  England  as  a  possible  ally,  having  learnt 
much  by  his  visit  to  Peterhof. 

Although  it  has  been  reported  otherwise,  M.  Fallieres  was 
fond  of  M.  Clemenceau,  and  they  got  on  very  well  together  the 
whole  time  the  latter  remained  Prime  Minister.  Together 
they  worked  for  the  benefit  of  M.  Briand,  the  new  star  that 
suddenly  arose  in  the  heaven  of  the  Third  Republic,  and 
which  began  to  shine  in  great  part  through  their  efforts  to 
assure  themselves  of  its  help  and  co-operation  towards  the 
final  triumph  of  the  Radical  party. 

I  shall  talk  of  M.  Briand  in  the  next  chapter.  Some  people 
saw  in  him  a  successor  of  M.  Fallieres  as  President  of  the 
Republic,  a  conviction  which  personally  I  did  not  share  at 
all,  and  events  proved  the  truth  of  my  conviction.  M.  Briand 
was  far  too  clever  to  retire  at  that  moment  from  political  life, 
which  still  has  many  triumphs  in  store  for  him,  and  a  man 
who  has  once  occupied  the  position  of  Head  of  the  State 
has  no  future  after  his  term  of  office  is  over ;  he  can  only 
end  his  days  in  peace,  with  the  broad  red  ribbon  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour  across  his  breast  as  a  remembrance  of  happy  days 
never  to  return. 

The  reign  of  M.  Fallieres  had  its  share  of  scandals.  I 
have  already  spoken  of  M.  Rochette.  There  were  others 
besides,  among  them  that  provoked  by  the  tragic  adventures 
of  Madame  Steinheil,  whose  trial  and  subsequent  acquittal 
occupied  Parisian  society  for  long  months. 

363 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Several  episodes  of  the  same  kind  have  lately  occupied 
public  attention.  They  have  all  left  M.  Fallieres  more  or 
less  indifferent,  and  have  not  ruffled  his  equanimity.  He 
fulfilled  his  duties  in  an  unostentatious  fashion,  and  tried  to 
impart  as  much  simplicity  as  possible  to  the  Presidential 
household.  He  travelled  about,  distributed  all  the  hand- 
shakes required  of  him  and  all  the  medals  and  decorations 
that  his  ministers  had  awarded  to  their  adherents.  He 
partook  of  the  regular  number  of  official  dinners,  opened 
exhibitions  and  charitable  institutions,  in  a  word  he  was  a 
model  President,  and  it  is  quite  possible  that  M.  Clemenceau 
viewed  the  end  of  his  Presidency  with  regret. 

Madame  Fallieres  has  been  the  subject  of  all  kinds  of 
absurd  stories.  Notwithstanding  these,  she  did  not  show 
herself  as  unfit  for  the  part  she  had  been  called  upon  to  play 
as  her  enemies  would  have  us  believe.  She  was  polite  with 
everybody,  reserved  in  her  manners,  and  avoided  mistakes. 
She  has  done  much  good,  and  if  she  was  not  so  generous 
as  some  of  her  predecessors  had  shown  themselves,  she  never 
refused  to  give  money  for  the  cause  of  charity,  when  it  was 
necessary,  but  on  the  contrary  tried  to  alleviate  the  distresses 
which  were  brought  to  her  notice.  She  did  not  pose  for 
what  she  was  not,  and  she  always  declared  that  when  she 
would  have  to  leave  the  Elysee,  she  would  do  so  with  regret 
at  having  to  give  up  such  a  sumptuous  home,  but  that  at 
the  same  tune  she  would  not  be  sorry  to  return  to  private 
life  and  its  simplicity. 

M.  and  Mme.  Fallieres  had  several  children  born  to 
them.  Their  only  daughter  was  married  a  few  years  ago 
to  M.  Jean  Lannes,  who  had  been,  until  the  day  when 
he  accompanied  to  the  altar  the  daughter  of  his  chief,  the 
private  secretary  of  the  President  of  the  Republic.  His 
marriage  caused  a  certain  sensation  in  Republican  circles, 

364 


M.  Fallieres  as  President 

because  it  was  celebrated  in  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  M.  Fallie'res  was  supposed  to  be  a 
freethinker,  which  in  reality  he  was  not  by  any  means. 
But  Madame  Fallieres  was  a  fervent  Catholic,  and  she  never 
would  have  allowed  her  child  to  be  married  simply  at  the 
mairie,  as  it  was  suggested  to  her  by  some  zealous  friends. 
Madame  Fallidres  had  always  the  courage  of  her  opinions, 
and  she  has  showed  it  during  her  reign  as  the  first  lady  of 
the  French  Republic. 

Her  son,  Andre  Fallieres,  was  the  subject  of  much  talk 
at  the  time  of  the  Steinheil  affair,  and  some  people  affirmed 
— well,  it  does  not  matter  what ;  it  is  needless  to  say  that 
there  was  not  the  slightest  foundation  for  such  a  story. 

When  M.  Fallieres'  term  of  office  was  over,  there  were  but 
three  candidates  possible  for  the  position :  one  of  them  was 
M.  Clemenceau  himself;  M.  Pamm,  a  very  wealthy  manu- 
facturer possessed  of  the  vast  influence  which  unlimited  means 
always  allow  one  to  wield ;  and  M.  Poincare,  advocate  and 
Academician,  a  man  gifted  with  singular  strength  of  will, 
strong  Conservative  principles,  who  endeavours  to  govern 
personally  the  country  entrusted  officially  to  his  care,  who  has 
a  holy  horror  of  Radicals,  and  who  is  cordially  disliked  by 
M.  Clemenceau. 

This  last  was  perhaps  the  very  reason  why  M.  Poincar£ 
was  elected — the  Chamber  and  the  Senate  have  become  just 
a  little  tired  of  the  autocracy  exercised  over  them  by  the 
tombeur  de  ministeres. 


365 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
M.   BRIAND  AND  THE   SOCIALISTS 

I  HAVE  mentioned  M.  Briand ;  he  is  certainly  the  most 
remarkable  politician  that  France  can  boast  at  the  present 
moment,  and  one  who  will  probably  rise  to  greater  things 
even  than  those  he  has  so  far  achieved.  He  began  life  as 
a  workman  in  a  factory,  and  soon  made  himself  known  by 
eloquent  speeches,  which  he  delivered  at  Socialist  meetings 
in  Lyons,  St.  Etienne,  and  other  working  centres  in  France. 
He  had  more  education  than  people  belonging  to  his  class 
generally  boast,  and  he  was  wise  enough  to  understand 
that  it  was  imperative  that  he  should  complete  it,  if  he  desired 
to  play  an  important  part  in  the  historical  development 
of  his  country — perhaps  one  day  to  rule  it.  Accordingly, 
he  devoted  all  his  spare  time  to  that  object,  and  refused 
offers  to  accept  a  seat  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  Only 
when  he  felt  sure  that  he  could  hold  his  own  in  that  assembly 
of  politicians  did  he  entertain  the  idea. 

M.  Briand  is  one  of  the  most  ambitious  men  of  his 
generation,  and  he  distinguishes  himself  from  most  of  his 
colleagues  by  the  knowledge  which  he  possesses  of  his  own 
power,  and  by  the  extreme  prudence  with  which  he  shows 
it  in  public.  It  is  true  that  he  likes  to  rule,  but  he  does  not 
care  for  people  to  know  that  he  rules  them.  In  this  he  differs 
from  others  in  power,  who  are  not  guiltless  of  displaying 
the  influence  which  they  exercise  over  their  political  friends 
and  disciples. 

366 


M.  Briand  and  the  Socialists 

When  M.  Briand  entered  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  he 
spent  the  first  years  initiating  himself  into  the  secrets  of 
social  life,  being  very  well  aware  of  the  importance  of  such 
things;  with  an  energy  of  which  very  few  people  would 
have  been  capable  he  set  himself  to  learn.  He  ended  by  becom- 
ing one  of  the  best-groomed  men  in  Paris.  His  former  friends 
stared  ;  at  first  they  felt  tempted  to  be  angry.  They  very 
soon  realised,  however,  that  a  deep  political  purpose  was  hidden 
behind  this  apparent  flattery  of  society,  and  they  began  to 
respect  him,  and  to  talk  about  him  as  of  a  man  born  to  great 
things.  When  at  last  he  became  a  power  in  his  party,  and 
in  France,  and  joined  M.  Clemenceau's  ministry,  they  under- 
stood that  he  would  prove  a  leader  such  as  very  few  political 
parties  could  boast. 

His  ambition  is  defined  by  those  who  are  watching  his 
career  as  aiming  to  grasp  the  reins  of  France,  and  to  hold 
them  fast,  until  the  day  when  he  can  show  himself  to  the 
whole  world  as  the  strong  man  of  France. 

M.  Briand  has  an  exceptional  nature.  He  has  no  illusions, 
either  about  himself  or  about  those  who  surround  him.  He 
knows  very  well  that  the  man  who  allows  sentimentality  to 
interfere  with  politics  is  lost  long  before  he  has  begun  to 
fight.  He  early  hastened  therefore  to  put  a  barrier  between 
himself  and  everything  that  could  be  called  by  that  name. 

He  gained  his  place  in  his  party  ;  won  the  votes  of  the 
electors  who  had  sent  him  to  the  Chamber  to  defend  their 
interests,  without  having  recourse  to  underhand  tricks;  he 
fought  his  adversaries  with  clean  hands.  He  won  the  admir- 
ation of  his  partners  in  the  game  he  played  by  the  audacity 
with  which  he  always  put  himself  forward  when  danger  was 
ahead.  He  exercised  influence  over  his  colleagues  in  the 
ministry  by  the  energy  with  which  he  defended  his  personal 
opinions,  and  the  independence  which  he  showed  in  questions 

367 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

where  his  principles  found  themselves  involved.  And  he 
gained  the  attention  of  his  country  by  the  strength  of  his 
personality,  the  calm  which  never  forsook  him  in  the  gravest 
circumstances  of  life,  and  the  cold  determination  which  he 
brought  to  bear  upon  everything  he  did,  and  every  blow 
which  he  dealt. 

Enemies  he  had  in  plenty,  detractors  very  few.  Many 
hated  him,  but  they  did  not  despise  him.  Years  ago  he  realised 
that  he  had  succeeded  in  winning  the  respect  of  France,  and 
he  meant  to  keep  it. 

Too  far-seeing  to  fail  to  understand  that  the  theories  by 
which  he  had  been  able  to  attain  his  position  were  Utopian 
and  would  not  carry  him  very  far,  M.  Briand  had  no  sympathy 
with  the  programme  of  destruction  which  the  Labour  party 
of  his  early  days  had  brought  forward ;  indeed,  it  looked  as 
if  he  meant  to  sweep  away  that  party  as  soon  as  he  succeeded 
in  gaining  power  and  in  inspiring  confidence  in  his  personality 
and  his  political  principles.  He  had  patience,  a  thing  so 
rarely  met  with  in  politicians,  who  are  always  eager  to  see 
their  opinions  triumph  without  waiting  for  the  moment 
when  they  become  acceptable  to  the  nation.  He  felt,  more- 
over, that  he  was  the  only  man  capable  of  saving  France 
from  the  hands  of  the  anarchists  who  at  that  time  were  deter- 
mined to  destroy  her. 

He  had  been  a  workman,  and  had  learned  to  appreciate 
the  evil  passions  and  the  thirst  for  unreasoning  destruction 
which  not  infrequently  animates  the  mob.  He  knew  but  too 
well  that  the  spread  of  Socialist  theories  would  lead  to  nothing 
but  the  desire  to  overthrow  everything  without  the  possibility 
of  putting  anything  else  in  the  place  of  what  had  been  trampled 
under  foot,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  not  to  lend  himself  to 
the  ambitions  of  those  who  aimed  at  annihilation. 

It  is  yet  too  early  to  judge  whether  M.  Briand's  plans 

368 


M.  Briand  and  the  Socialists 

wall  ever  be  realised,  but  for  those  who  know  him  as  well 
as  I  do,  it  is  pretty  certain  that  sooner  or  later  he  will  try  to 
constitute  a  moderate  Republican  party,  determined  to  put 
a  stop  to  the  progress  of  anarchism,  and  to  rally  around  the 
new  party  the  sound  forces  of  the  nation.  He  will  then  be 
the  object  of  the  denunciation  and  hatred  of  his  friends  of 
yesterday,  who  will  see  in  him  a  traitor,  and  who  will  fight 
him  with  all  the  energy  of  which  they  are  capable.  They 
will  endeavour  to  overthrow  him  as  they  have  other  idols  that 
they  have  worshipped  in  the  past. 

It  is  probable,  however,  that  M.  Briand  will  not  lose 
prestige  by  this  cry  of  revenge  which  will  certainly  be  raised, 
and  that  he  will  continue  in  the  path  which  he  has  marked 
out.  He  is  essentially  an  opportunist,  and  moreover  has 
enough  common  sense  not  to  attach  himself  to  the  success 
of  the  moment ;  rather  he  looks  to  the  future  for  his  ultimate 
triumph,  a  triumph  he  will  not  miss,  and  which  will  not  miss 
him.  At  present  the  only  hope  France  can  have  of  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  strong,  moderate  Republican  government,  able 
to  exist  without  having  recourse  to  the  votes  of  the  Socialists, 
lies  in  M.  Briand.  He  alone  is  able  to  stop  the  torrent 
that  is  threatening  to  carry  away  the  existing  order  of 
things. 

In  M.  Briand,  M.  Clemenceau  finds  a  strong  man  with 
strong  political  opinions,  but  it  is  not  likely,  so  long  as  the 
latter  is  alive,  that  his  former  pupil  will  come  out  openly 
against  him. 

M.  Briand  was  for  a  short  time  considered  the  real 
leader  of  the  Socialist  party.  This  did  not  last  very  long, 
and  perhaps  he  was  not  sorry  to  give  up  that  position,  and 
to  have  the  opportunity  of  disagreeing  openly  with  M.  Jaures, 
the  great  oracle  and  prophet  of  Socialism. 

M.  Jaures  is  a  curious  personality.  He  is  extremely  rich, 
Y  369 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  yet  preaches  a  general  division  of  all  wealth  —  save 
his  own.  He  is  gifted  with  singular  and  powerful  eloquence, 
and  knows  how  to  appeal  to  the  hearts  and  especially  to  the 
imagination  of  his  hearers,  using  a  torrent  of  words  which 
leave  such  a  deep  impression  on  those  who  listen  to  him 
that  they  lose  sight  of  all  that  is  false  and  untrue  in  them. 
M.  Jaures  is  worshipped  by  the  more  fiery  Socialists,  who 
consider  even  Radicalism  as  something  associated  with  Con- 
servatism, and  whose  only  creed  is  the  destruction  of  every- 
thing that  existed  before  their  time. 

He  is  ambitious  of  influencing  others,  but  has  no  desire 
to  rule  his  country,  perhaps  because  he  knows  very  well 
that  the  moment  he  would  consent  to  enter  or  to  form  a 
ministry  half  his  prestige  would  be  gone.  He  is  too  in- 
telligent not  to  understand  that  the  moment  that  one  has 
power  one  is  bound  to  defend  those  who  have  given  it  to  you 
as  well  as  the  principles  to  which  one  owes  it.  And  M.  Jaures 
with  all  his  eloquence  is  unable  to  defend  anything;  he  can 
only  attack,  a  thing  which  is  easier  and  nine  times  out  of 
ten  more  successful — at  least  in  politics. 

He  is  the  type  of  a  tribune  of  Roman  times  ;  he  can  win 
the  masses  over  to  his  view,  and  knows  very  well  how  to 
incense  them  against  those  whom  they  consider  to  be  their 
enemies ;  it  is  a  question  whether  he  would  be  able  to  stop 
these  masses,  should  he  ever  desire  to  do  so. 

Very  often  the  question  has  been  asked  whether  M.  Jaures 
is  a  sincere  Socialist,  or  whether  he  has  declared  himself  to 
be  one  simply  because  he  wanted  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  world  to  his  person,  his  opinions  and  his  speeches. 
To  this  question  it  is  most  difficult  to  reply.  Certainly  M. 
Jaures  has  a  great  deal  that  is  theatrical  in  his  nature,  he  is 
an  actor  by  temperament  as  well  as  a  fighter,  and  this  has 
perhaps  contributed  more  than  anything  else  to  the  attitude 

37o 


M.  Briand  and  the  Socialists 

which  he  has  taken  in  politics.  Nothing  gives  him  more 
pleasure  than  by  scathing  phrases  to  disarm  his  adversaries 
or  inspire  them  with  terror. 

Strange  to  say,  the  Socialists  have  never  reproached  him 
for  his  large  fortune,  which  he  has  always  steadfastly  refused 
to  share  with  them.  M.  Jaures  is  in  their  eyes  a  privileged 
person  whom  they  allow  not  to  practise  the  virtues  which 
he  preaches.  They  know  but  too  well  that  they  possess  in 
him  a  strength  they  cannot  well  spare. 

France,  it  seems  to  me,  is  a  country  where  Socialism  is 
rampant,  and  yet  one  where  it  has  the  least  chances  to  seize 
control  of  the  country.  The  explanation  lies  in  the  fact  that 
the  working  classes  are  far  from  possessing  the  intellectual 
development  which  we  find  among  them  in  Germany,  or  even 
England.  Men  like  Virchow,  Liebneckt,  or  Bebel  are  not 
to  be  found  in  France,  where  if  they  existed  they  would  at 
once  embrace  the  political  convictions  of  the  bourgeois  class, 
which  after  all  has  the  upper  hand  in  that  country.  French- 
men are  very  practical ;  it  suits  them  to  scream  against  all 
those  who  are  in  possession  of  riches,  but  the  moment 
they  have  earned  the  francs  which  they  envied  in  their 
opponents  they  immediately  become  disdainful  of  their  former 
friends.  All  the  French  workmen  are  Socialists  until  they 
get  rich,  but  the  country  itself  is  essentially  bourgeois,  and 
we  all  know  that  the  French  bourgeois  is  not  the  most 
unselfish  of  beings. 

From  this  fact  I  draw  the  conclusion  that,  so  long  as  the 
present  love  of  money  lasts,  there  is  little  danger  of  a  purely 
Socialist  government  ever  ruling  France. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 
A  FEW  LITERARY  MEN  OF  THE  PRESENT  DAY 

IF  one  decides  to  forget  the  past  and  the  great  thinkers  who 
had  made  the  middle  of  last  century  so  interesting  in  France, 
one  can  find  great  pleasure  in  knowing  some  of  the  literary 
men  of  the  present  day  in  Paris.  They  are  always  amusing, 
and  perhaps  the  art  of  small  talk  is  practised  by  them  more 
brilliantly  than  among  their  predecessors.  Anatole  France, 
Octave  Mirbeau,  and  Pierre  Loti  are  among  the  foremost 
novelists,  and  for  those  who  have  given  themselves  over  to 
historical  studies  the  Marquis  de  Segur  is  the  most  acceptable 
name.  I  must  also  give  grateful  mention  to  such  as  Guy 
de  Maupassant  and  Flaubert — the  great  Flaubert,  whom  so 
many  have  tried  to  imitate,  but  whom  few  could  approach 
either  as  regards  his  talent  or  his  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  French  language. 

The  well  known  Octave  Mirbeau  began  his  literary  career 
as  the  secretary  of  Arthur  Meyer,  the  director  and 
present  owner  of  the  Gaidois.  He  has  a  profound  belief  in  his 
own  work,  and  with  some  justice.  He  certainly  is  clever, 
and  the  talent  with  which  he  describes  in  his  novels  what  he 
has  not  felt  is  such  as  one  but  seldom  meets  nowadays.  His 
books  are  remarkable,  and  they  awake  passionate  interest 
in  their  readers,  even  though  they  are  so  strong  with  realism 
that  they  repel  many.  They  are  highly  imaginative,  and 
provoke  not  only  curiosity  but  also  the  desire  to  read  them 
over  again  as  soon  as  one  has  finished  them. 

372 


Literary  Men  of  the  Present 

From  being  quite  unknown  Octave  Mirbeau  has  risen 
high  in  the  literary  firmament  of  his  country  and  his  genera- 
tion. He  soon  made  his  name,  gossip  saying  that  he  kept 
himself  before  his  contemporaries  by  his  sharp  criticisms 
of  everybody  and  everything  he  did  not  like,  or  he  thought 
did  not  like  him.  He  spared  no  one.  Nevertheless  he  became 
famous  in  Paris  and  throughout  France.  He  succeeded, 
therefore,  in  making  his  books  popular. 

M.  Mirbeau  began  as  a  poor  man  ;  quickly,  however,  he 
earned  for  himself  a  large  fortune,  partly  through  his  books, 
partly  through  successful  operations  on  the  Stock  Exchange, 
and  partly  by  marriage.  M.  Mirbeau  lives  in  clover  in  one 
of  the  finest  apartments  of  the  Avenue  du  Bois,  and  on  the 
lovely  property  which  he  possesses  at  Cormeilles-en-Vexin, 
near  Paris.  He  gives  dinners  now  and  then,  and  has  always 
been  upon  excellent  terms  with  the  wife  to  whom  he  owes  so 
much  of  his  worldly  goods.  He  likes  to  see  at  his  hospitable 
hearth  the  people  of  whose  admiration  he  feels  sure,  and 
honoured  me  once  with  an  invitation  to  lunch  when  I  least 
expected  it,  for  we  had  never  been  very  friendly  towards 
each  other. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  lunch.  There  were  only  four  of 
us,  the  host  and  hostess,  Rodin  the  sculptor,  and  myself. 
When  I  arrived  I  was  introduced  in  the  study,  where  the  first 
thing  which  struck  my  eyes  was  the  bust  of  Mirbeau  himself 
on  the  mantelpiece.  As  I  looked  at  it,  after  having  exchanged 
the  first  greetings  with  the  people  in  the  room,  Madame 
Mirbeau  turned  to  me,  and  said  in  her  softest  accents — and 
she  has  a  delightfully  soft  voice  :  "  You  are  looking  at  my 
husband's  bust ;  it  is  the  work  of  our  great  master  here," 
and  she  turned  towards  Rodin. 

The  latter  raised  himself  slightly  from  the  depths  of  the 
large  arm-chair  in  which  he  was  ensconced  beside  the  fire, 

373 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

and  looking  at  me,  murmured  dreamily  :  "  Ah,  it  is  not  every- 
body's bust  I  care  to  do,  but  when  one  meets  with  a  remark- 
able personality  like  our  great  writer  here,  it  is  a  pleasure 
for  an  artist  to  reproduce  his  features." 

He  sighed  as  he  spoke,  and  Mirbeau's  face  lighted  up 
as  he  said  in  his  turn  :  "I  never  hoped  for  such  a  reward 
for  all  my  work  as  to  be  thought  worthy  of  the  attention 
of  our  great  master." 

And  then  Madame  Mirbeau  began  again :  "  Ah,  it  is  not 
often  that  two  great  souls  like  our  two  great  masters  here 
present  meet  and  think  together." 

Lunch  was  announced,  and  Rodin  rose,  and  directed  his 
steps  towards  the  dining-room.  Fearing  that  I  might  step 
before  him,  Mirbeau  stopped  me  by  laying  his  hand  upon 
my  arm,  saying  as  he  did  so  :  "  Laissez  passer  le  maitre, 
notre  maitre  a  tous  !  " 

And  this  kind  of  thing  went  on  during  the  whole  meal. 
Rodin  praised  Mirbeau,  Mirbeau  praised  Rodin,  and  Madame 
Mirbeau  praised  both  of  them.  One  heard  nothing  but 
"  cher  maitre,"  and  "  ce  grand  maitre,"  and  "  notre  grand 
maitre " — I  began  to  think  that  I  had  been  invited  to 
assist  at  the  canonisation  of  Rodin  by  Mirbeau,  and  of  Mirbeau 
by  Rodin,  or  of  both  by  Mirbeau's  wife. 

Anatole  France  is  the  Republic's  most  polished  writer, 
but  whilst  admiring  him,  I  cannot  forget  that  there  have 
been  other  great  thinkers,  writers,  and  philosophers,  not 
only  in  France  but  also  in  Europe.  And  this  is  what  his 
worshippers  won't  admit.  St.  Simon  will  always  provide 
enjoyment  for  the  people  who  wade  through  his  pages ; 
Renan's  works  will  always  remain  a  model  of  fine  language, 
and  of  noble  thoughts  nobly  expressed  ;  Thiers's  history  of 
the  Consulate  and  the  Empire  will  always  be  consulted  by 
those  who  care  for  the  past  and  all  it  has  seen  and  witnessed. 

374 


Literary  Men  of  the  Present 

I  doubt  very  much  whether  the  life  of  Jeanne  d'Arc  will 
ever  become  a  classic  work. 

Apart  from  his  liking  for  the  congenial  atmosphere  of 
praise,  Anatole  France  is  a  charming  man,  full  of  humour, 
amusing  in  the  extreme,  his  conversation  sparkling  with 
witty  anecdotes  and  bons  mots,  which  he  utters  now  and  then 
when  one  least  expects  them.  He  has  a  wonderful  memory, 
and  when  all  is  said  and  done  possesses  a  great  deal  of  kind- 
ness in  his  judgments,  with  a  considerable  indulgence  towards 
his  neighbours.  He  has  none  of  the  sharpness  of  language 
of  Mirbeau,  and  is  more  a  gentleman.  His  manner  with 
women  is  a  model  of  its  kind;  he  treats  them  with  a 
chivalry  which  savours  of  the  days  of  old,  when  men  still 
died  for  the  ladies  of  their  heart.  M.  Anatole  France,  taken 
on  the  whole,  is  certainly  a  person  worth  knowing,  and  is 
one  of  the  most  charming  men  in  Paris  at  the  present 
day. 

I  don't  think  that  I  met  Flaubert  more  than  a  couple  of 
times,  but  he  left  on  my  mind  an  impression  that  probably 
nothing  will  ever  efface.  There  was  real  genius  in  his  face, 
and,  in  spite  of  a  certain  tendency  to  grumble  at  everything 
and  at  everybody,  he  could  be  a  charming  companion.  He 
was  the  inventor  of  the  Naturalistic  school,  and  unfortunately 
others  tried  to  copy  him,  with  the  appalling  result  which 
we  who  live  in  France  have  seen.  But  nothing  could  be 
more  amusing  than  to  witness  his  rage  when  shown  the  dis- 
tasteful manuscript  of  some  talentless  young  man,  and  being 
told  that  it  was  supposed  to  be  an  imitation  of  his  style. 
He  used  to  burst  into  real  fury,  and  declare  that  if  this  was 
going  to  be  the  result  of  his  arduous  work,  he  would  rather 
throw  in  the  fire  all  that  he  had  ever  written.  Flaubert 
was  not  devoid  of  ideals,  and  though  he  believed  that  novels 
ought  to  describe  life,  he  did  not  think  that  they  must  depict 

375 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

every  phase  of  the  material  side  of  it.  He  was  a  great  genius) 
and  what  was  allowed  to  him  would  not  be  tolerated  in 
others. 

Pierre  Loti  is  another  genius  in  his  way.  In  his  charming, 
lovely  books  each  line  breathes  with  a  deep,  real  talent.  Some 
of  his  descriptions  show  us  certain  spots  and  places  with  such 
vividness  that  it  is  almost  possible  to  think  one  has  seen 
them  too.  There  are  passages  in  "  Mon  Frere  Yves,"  in 
"  Desanchantees,"  in  "  Le  Pelerin  d'Angkok,"  and  especially 
in  that  delightful  and  profound  work,  "  Le  Livre  de  la  Pitie 
et  de  la  Mort,"  the  like  of  which  have  perhaps  never  been 
written  before  in  the  French  language.  But  the  man  him- 
self is  anything  but  sympathetic.  He  thinks  far  too  much 
of  his  own  genius,  and  his  affectation  jars  on  the  nerves.  I 
have  never  been  able  to  understand  why  the  people  who 
write  clever  books  should  consider  themselves  as  made  of 
superior  clay  to  other  mortals,  and  I  feel  inclined  to  laugh 
always  whenever  I  see  an  author  affect  habits,  language,  and 
general  demeanour  different  from  those  of  common  humanity 
simply  on  account  of  the  tales  which  he  has  composed, 
thanks  to  the  intelligence  and  cleverness  that  Providence  has 
given  to  him,  and  which  it  might  just  as  well  have  given  to 
someone  else. 

A  man  who  did  not  think  himself  something  extraordinary, 
and  who,  perhaps,  had  more  genius  in  his  little  finger  than 
others  in  their  whole  body,  was  Guy  de  Maupassant,  that 
cruel  observer  of  the  human  heart  who  understood  so 
well  the  feelings  of  his  generation,  and  who  was  to  die  so 
miserably,  first  losing  that  intellect  which  had  made  him 
such  a  strong  man  and  such  a  remarkable  writer.  There 
was  a  time  when  I  often  saw  him,  and  his  death  grieved  me 
very  much  more  than  I  could  even  have  supposed. 

Emile  Augier  and  Jules  Claretie  belonged  still  to  a  genera- 

376 


Literary  Men  of  the  Present 

tion  where  self-praise  was  absent.  The  last-mentioned  writer 
was  perhaps  one  of  the  greatest  workers  of  his  time.  I  often 
wondered  at  the  activity  which  allowed  him  to  fulfil  his  duties 
as  director  of  the  Comedie  Fran?aise,  to  write  the  charming 
feuilletons  which  the  Temps  publishes  every  week,  and  to  do 
all  this  apart  from  innumerable  other  things,  among  which 
the  composition  of  novels  holds  a  place. 

There  have  been  many  who  grumbled  in  public  at 
the  manner  in  which  Claretie  administered  the  Comedie 
Frangaise,  perhaps  they  would  have  grumbled  just  as  much 
if  someone  else  had  been  in  his  place.  The  post  was  not  an 
easy  one,  for  it  required  an  amount  of  tact  such  as  is  not  to 
be  found  everywhere.  But  what  cannot  be  denied  is  that  he 
filled  it  like  the  gentleman  he  was,  and  that  he  insisted  on 
his  staff  behaving  like  gentlemen  and  ladies  so  long  as  they 
remained  under  his  control.  He  gave  to  his  theatre  an  air 
of  dignity  and  of  correctness  which  put  it  high  above  any 
other  in  Paris. 

Another  man  who  could  be  classed  in  the  same  category 
as  Jules  Claretie  was  the  Vicomte  de  Vogue,  also  a  member 
of  the  Academy,  and  a  writer  imbued  with  the  grand  traditions 
of  the  seventeenth  century  when  La  Rochefoucauld  wrote 
his  maxims  and  La  Bruyere  his  philosophical  meditations 
on  the  foibles  of  mankind.  M.  de  Vogue  can  be  classed  among 
the  best  authors  of  the  latter  part  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
and  his  books  will  always  be  read  with  pleasure  when  those 
of  other  authors  will  be  entirely  forgotten. 

There  are  just  a  few  writers  of  the  same  style  left  among 
the  ranks  of  the  French  Academy,  such  as  the  Marquis  de  Segur, 
whom  I  have  already  mentioned,  but  unfortunately  that 
learned  assembly  has  deteriorated,  and  has  welcomed  to  its 
bosom  literary  men  of  a  very  inferior  rank. 

I  will  not  put  among  them  M.  Paul  Bourget,  who,  though 

377 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

his  books  have  sadly  gone  out  of  fashion,  is  an  active,  charming 
writer  full  of  the  spirit  of  observation.  I  find  myself  thinking 
of  him,  however,  as  an  author  who  wanted  to  imitate  Balzac, 
and  who  imagined  that  he  had  written  a  sequel  to  the  "  Comedie 
Humaine,"  whilst  in  reality  he  had  only  described  the 
comedy  of  a  certain  small  circle  of  Parisian  smart  society, 
which  has  already  changed  so  much  that  one  cannot  recognise 
a  single  known  person  among  those  he  tried  to  describe  so 
faithfully. 

Marcel  Prevost  is  also  among  the  men  I  have  often  met, 
and  I  liked  him  very  much.  He  was  modest ;  he  did  not 
always  speak  of  his  personal  perfections,  and  did  not  think  that 
the  fact  of  his  having  been  elected  a  member  of  the  French 
Academy  relieved  him  from  study  or  from  honest  hard  work. 
He  was  also  a  delightful  companion.  Few  men  are  living 
to-day  who  are  better  informed  as  to  the  virtues  or  the  vices 
of  his  generation ;  he  has  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart,  he  realises  the  artificiality  of  the  society  among  which 
he  lives,  and  also  its  follies,  for  which  his  indulgence  is 
seldom  lacking. 

There  is  much  earnestness  in  the  talent  of  M.  Marcel 
Prevost,  far  more  than  in  the  sketches,  for  one  can  hardly 
call  them  anything  else,  of  Abel  Hermant,  who  poses  for  the 
satirist  of  his  time  and  of  his  generation,  and  who  for- 
gets that  one  could  often  find  much  about  himself  to 
satirise. 

I  will  not  do  more  than  mention  the  modern  playwrights 
such  as  Henri  Bataille,  Alfred  Capus,  Henri  Bernstein,  Francis 
du  Croisset,  and  so  on.  They  write  in  order  to  make  money, 
and  of  course  must  compose  dramatic  pieces  which  can  bring 
it  to  them.  They  are  more  or  less  cabotins  themselves, 
owing  to  the  influence  of  the  many  actors  with  whom  their 
whole  life  is  spent,  and  they  often  mistake  life  for  a  comedy, 

378 


Literary  Men  of  the  Present 

which  unfortunately  it  is  not,  introducing  drama  when  it  is 
not  needed.  Still,  I  hardly  see  how  they  could  avoid  it, 
living,  as  everybody  does,  in  an  artificial  atmosphere.  The 
greatest  actors  in  Paris  indeed  are  those  who  do  not  appear 
on  the  stage. 

It  is  impossible  to  pass  actresses  by  in  silence ;  they  rule 
Paris  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  are  given  far  more  importance 
than  the  highest  born.  Artists  like  Madame  Sarah  Bernhardt, 
Rejane,  Jane  Hading,  or  the  "  divine  "  Bartet,  as  she  is  called, 
of  the  Comedie  Frangaise,  without  mentioning  Cecile  Sorel, 
who  is  something  else  besides  an  actress  of  unrivalled  talent, 
are  all  the  objects  of  far  more  attention  than  a  queen  would 
be  should  she  appear  in  the  circles  in  which  these  ladies 
live.  One  looks  up  to  them  not  only  as  clever,  talented 
artists,  but  also  the  supreme  mistresses  of  fashion ;  as 
examples  to  be  imitated  by  all  those  who  can  do  so ;  as  the 
most  fascinating,  interesting  women  in  Paris.  Their  dresses, 
their  hats,  their  jewels,  carriages,  and  sumptuous  apartments 
are  described  in  all  the  newspapers ;  their  movements  are 
chronicled  as  if  they  were  empresses. 

Among  all  these  fair,  charming  creatures,  Madame  Bartet 
is  certainly  the  most  ladylike,  not  only  in  her  person,  but 
also  in  her  tastes  and  quiet  refinement.  She  has  been  lucky 
enough  to  keep  her  youth  at  an  age  when  most  other  women 
have  long  ago  forgotten  that  they  ever  had  such  a  possession, 
and  her  slight  figure,  her  lovely  complexion,  despite  her  more 
than  fifty  years,  make  her  look  always  young  and  altogether 
charming.  Sarah  Bernhardt  is  a  great-grandmother,  yet 
she  also  can  play  the  Dame  aux  Camelias  without  appearing 
ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  her  old  admirers.  She  is  perhaps 
the  greatest  actress  that  France  has  produced  since  Rachel, 
but  I  cannot  say  that  I  ever  found  her  sympathetic.  To  my 
mind  she  screams  far  too  much,  and  is  not  natural  in  her 

379 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

conception  of  the  many  heroines  which  she  represents. 
But  she  is  so  charming  as  a  woman  of  the  world,  so  inter- 
esting in  her  intercourse,  that  I  am  quite  ready  to  say  that 
it  is  I  who  have  bad  taste,  and  that  all  she  does  is  perfection 
itself. 

Re  jane  is  something  quite  different ;  there  is  more  real 
passion  in  her  acting,  though  much  less  refinement.  She  is 
vulgar,  and  the  heaviness  of  her  whole  person  adds  to  that 
first  impression ;  but  she  knows  how  to  represent  the  different 
feelings  of  joy,  despair,  sorrow,  anger  and  rage  that  can  shake 
a  human  creature.  She  is  life  itself  whenever  she  appears 
on  the  stage,  not  life  seen  through  rose-coloured  spectacles, 
but  life  as  we  have  unfortunately  to  live  and  to  bear  it. 

Jeanne  Granier  is  still  a  favourite  with  the  Parisian  public, 
though  her  lovely  voice  has  become  worn,  and  her  increasing 
stoutness  has  done  away  with  her  former  grace. 

Jane  Hading  was  also  at  one  moment  the  rage,  but  she 
did  not  remain  a  long  time  the  fashion,  though  we  still  see  her 
name  on  the  programmes  of  different  theatres.  She  certainly 
played  well,  but  tried  too  much  to  imitate  Sarah,  which 
did  not  always  agree  with  her  style  of  beauty,  to  which, 
let  it  be  said  en  passant,  she  owed  most  of  her  successes 
rather  than  to  her  talent,  which  was  not  that  of  a  tragedienne 
by  any  means. 

As  for  Cecile  Sorel,  she  is  an  exception  among  actresses, 
just  as  much  as  she  is  an  exception  among  women.  She  has 
often  reminded  me  of  the  Duchesse  de  Longueville  and  those 
other  ladies  of  the  time  of  the  Fronde  who  led  men  to  victory 
or  to  death.  Her  beauty  is  something  quite  extraordinary, 
more  by  its  originality  than  by  its  perfection.  She  is  the 
incarnation  of  feminine  charm,  and  clever  in  mind  as  well 
as  cultured  and  well-bred.  Her  whole  demeanour  is  that  of  a 
grande  dame. 

380 


Literary  Men  of  the  Present 

And  actors,  you  will  ask  me,  actors  such  as  Guitry,  or 
Le  Bargy  or  Mounet  Sully,  what  do  you  think  of  them  ? 
I  think  nothing,  because  I  do  not  know  them.  In  my  time 
one  kissed  the  pretty  fingers  of  a  lovely  actress,  but  one 
did  not  invite  actors  to  one's  house.  I  have  kept  to  this 
tradition,  and  do  not  regret  it. 


38. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII 
A  FEW  FOREIGN  DIPLOMATS 

DURING  the  quarter  of  a  century  that  I  lived  in  Paris  I  was 
fated  to  see  many  changes  among  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  first 
at  the  Court  of  Napoleon  III.,  and  afterwards  at  the  Ely  see. 
I  must  say  that  in  all  the  diplomatic  circle  I  seldom  found 
unpleasant  or  rude  colleagues,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  I 
have  met  most  charming  men  and  women  whom  it  was  a 
privilege  and  an  honour  to  know.  It  is  impossible  to  speak 
of  them  all,  but  there  are  a  few  figures  which  have  left  such 
a  vivid  remembrance  in  my  mind  that  I  must  mention  them. 

I  think  I  have  spoken  of  Prince  and  Princess  Metternich  ; 
they  were  great  favourites  with  the  Empress  Eugenie,  and 
another  Ambassador  who  shared  her  affections  was  Count 
Nigra,  one  of  the  ablest  diplomats  Italy  could  ever  boast. 
A  faithful  servant  and  pupil  of  the  great  Cavour,  he  watched 
on  his  behalf  everything  that  was  going  on  in  France,  and 
helped  the  unfortunate  Empress  in  her  flight,  or  rather  did 
not  help  her,  because  his  intervention,  together  with  that  of 
his  Austrian  colleague,  consisted  in  advising  her  to  run  away, 
and  perhaps  even  in  obliging  her  to  do  so,  from  a  feeling  that 
later  on  it  would  be  easier  to  get  a  revolutionary  government 
to  shut  its  eyes  to  the  advance  of  the  Italian  troops  on  Rome, 
and  their  conquest  of  the  Eternal  City. 

Count  Nigra  was  a  charming  man.  It  was  said  that  one 
could  never  believe  anything  he  said,  or  rely  upon  anything 
he  promised.  But  apart  from  this  he  was  the  pleasantest 

382 


A  Few  Foreign  Diplomats 

colleague  one  could  have,  and  contrived  to  remain  on  good 
terms  with  all  those  he  knew,  even  when  in  diplomacy  he  had 
cheated  them  of  something  or  other.  After  he  left  Paris, 
I  met  him  in  Vienna  and  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  was  always 
delighted  to  have  those  opportunities. 

Lord  Lyons  spent  long  years  in  Paris,  and  represented 
the  government  of  Queen  Victoria  with  great  dignity.  He 
was  a  gentleman  and  also  a  most  able  diplomat,  and  whilst 
he  stayed  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore,  Anglo-French  relations 
remained  excellent  in  spite  of  the  many  attempts  made  to 
spoil  them.  His  successors  also  left  excellent  memories  behind 
them  when  their  term  of  office  came  to  an  end ;  and  Lord 
Lytton  especially  had  contrived  to  make  for  himself  many 
friends  among  French  society,  which  at  that  time  did  not 
look  upon  foreigners  with  the  same  enthusiasm  it  professes 
to-day.  Lord  Lytton  was  a  scholar,  a  writer  and  also  a 
statesman,  a  combination  one  does  not  meet  frequently  in 
our  age  of  mediocrities.  He  was  a  great  friend,  and,  I  think, 
also  a  distant  relation,  of  Lord  Salisbury,  who  had  firm  con- 
fidence in  his  abilities ;  he  enjoyed  greater  latitude  than 
other  Ambassadors  had  done  or  did  later  on. 

I  will  say  nothing  about  Count  Arnim.  We  were  never 
intimate  or  even  on  friendly  terms  with  each  other.  He 
was  extremely  stiff,  and  had  a  considerable  amount  of  the 
morgue  prussienne  in  his  ways,  so  that  very  few  people  sym- 
pathised with  him  or  with  his  opinions.  Nevertheless,  his 
trial,  and  the  long  war  which  Prince  Bismarck  waged  against 
him,  aroused  an  interest  in  his  fate  which  would  not  have 
existed  under  different  circumstances.  But,  all  the  same 
one  was  not  sorry  when  Prince  Hohenlohe  succeeded  him. 
The  Prince  was  received  with  a  certain  amount  of  kind  feeling 
such  as  could  not  have  been  expected  under  ordinary 
conditions. 

383 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

Prince  Hohenlohe  was  one  of  the  greatest  among  the 
grand  seigneurs  in  Germany.  He  was  related  to  the  Royal 
Family  of  Prussia  and  to  almost  all  the  crowned  heads  in 
Europe.  He  had  been  President  of  the  Bavarian  ministry, 
and  as  such  had  shown  great  devotion  to  the  cause  of  German 
unity.  His  character  had  always  been  above  reproach,  his 
tact  was  exquisite,  and  his  straightforwardness  was  recognised 
even  among  the  enemies  of  his  political  ideas  and  opinions. 
He  was  essentially  a  man  of  duty,  and  he  never  failed  in 
its  fulfilment,  no  matter  how  painful  this  might  be.  All 
those  who  knew  him  respected  him,  and  when  he  was  sent 
to  Paris  as  Ambassador,  it  was  felt  among  the  diplomatic 
circles  of  Europe  that  his  presence  there  would  help  to  do 
away  with  many  prejudices  and  misunderstandings. 

I  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  house  of  Prince  Clovis, 
as  we  called  him  familiarly,  and  whenever  I  left  him  it  was 
with  admiration  for  his  shrewd  intelligence  and  the  logic 
displayed  in  all  his  reasonings  and  appreciations  of  men  and 
of  events.  He  had  very  few  illusions,  but  at  the  same  time 
an  excessive  kindness  in  all  his  judgments  of  other  people. 
Ill-nature  was  unknown  to  him,  and  he  was  always  ready  to 
find  excuses  for  the  mistakes  he  could  not  help  noticing  in 
his  neighbours.  Prince  Hohenlohe  was  infinitely  above  all 
his  contemporaries  in  everything,  both  as  a  private  and  as 
a  public  man,  and  in  all  the  high  offices  which  he  held  he 
won  for  himself  the  esteem  and  the  affection  of  all  who  had 
to  do  with  him. 

He  made  himself  liked,  too,  in  Paris  in  those  first  years 
which  followed  upon  the  war,  in  spite  of  the  natural  prejudice 
which  existed  against  everything  German.  He  had  some 
relatives  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  where  both  he  and 
his  wife  were  received  with  more  cordiality  than  in  official 
circles,  and  he  felt  more  or  less  at  home  among  them.  This 

384 


A  Few  Foreign  Diplomats 

fact  made  him  cling  to  his  Paris  mission,  where  it  was  felt 
at  the  time  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  replace  him,  and  where, 
later  on,  his  appointment  as  Chancellor  of  the  German  Empire 
was  received  with  a  certain  amount  of  sympathy. 

Princess  Hohenlohe  was  a  fitting  wife  for  that  distinguished 
man.  She  was  also  a  grande  dame,  highly  born  and  highly 
connected,  with  some  of  the  bluest  blood  in  Europe  flowing 
in  her  veins.  She  admirably  filled  her  position  as  Ambas- 
sadress, and  she  made  for  herself  in  France,  as  everywhere 
else,  a  considerable  number  of  friends. 

Prince  Hohenlohe's  successor,  Count  Munster,  as  I  think 
I  have  already  remarked,  was  in  appearance  more  an  English- 
man than  a  German.  His  wife  had  been  English,  and  he 
affected  great  sympathies  for  everything  that  was  British, 
loving  London,  where  he  always  declared  he  spent  the  happiest 
time  of  his  life,  and  crossing  the  Channel  whenever  he  found 
it  possible  to  do  so.  He  was  in  Paris  at  the  time  of  the  Dreyfus 
affair,  and  contrived  not  to  make  for  himself  too  many  enemies, 
in  spite  of  the  difficult  position  and  circumstances  in  which 
he  found  himself  during  that  anxious  period.  Among  diplo- 
mats he  was  liked,  his  advice  being  always  appreciated  and 
mostly  followed.  I  cannot  say  the  same  thing  about  his 
successor,  Prince  Radolin,  formerly  Count  Radolinski,  who, 
in  spite  of  the  many  years  he  remained  in  Paris,  did  not  succeed 
in  attaining  the  great  position  which  had  belonged  to  Prince 
Hohenlohe  or  to  Count  Munster. 

During  the  latter's  tenure  of  the  German  Embassy,  the 
present  Prince  von  Biilow  was  one  of  his  secretaries.  In- 
telligent, clever  in  noticing  what  ought  to  be  noticed,  and 
in  not  seeing  the  things  which  apparently  did  not  concern 
him,  he  contrived  to  keep  himself  exceedingly  well  au  courant 
of  all  that  was  going  on  around  him,  and  of  the  intentions 
and  designs  of  French  diplomacy.  He  was  a  man  singularly 
z  385 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

unprejudiced,  for  whom  the  end  always  justified  the  means.  He 
may  perhaps  have  had  too  high  an  opinion  of  his  own  merits, 
and  too  much  confidence  in  his  power  to  do  always  what  he 
liked  and  wanted.  He  could  make  himself  very  charming 
when  he  saw  a  personal  advantage,  and  he  was  constantly 
on  the  look  out  for  the  things  that  others  did  not  see  or  did 
not  care  to  notice.  His  admiration  for  Prince  Bismarck 
was  unbounded,  and  he  fondly  nursed  an  ambition  to  replace 
him  as  Chancellor  of  the  German  Empire.  Even  at  the  time 
when  he  was  a  simple  secretary  at  the  Paris  Embassy,  he  told 
a  friend  of  his  that  he  would  probably  never  become  an  am- 
bassador, but  might,  if  circumstances  favoured  him,  come  to 
be  at  the  head  of  Germany's  foreign  policy. 

Prince  Billow,  who  fell  from  his  high  position  because  he 
had  not  understood  the  character  of  the  Emperor  William  II., 
and  imagined  that  the  latter  would  not  notice  or  would  for- 
give him  for  trying  to  keep  him  in  leading-strings,  married 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  women  in  Europe,  an  Italian 
by  birth,  and  the  daughter  of  the  Princesse  de  Camporeale. 
Madame  Biilow  was  the  wife  of  another  German  diplomat, 
Count  Donhoff,  when  she  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
future  Chancellor.  No  one  can  doubt  his  love  for  the  beautiful 
and  intelligent  woman  who  at  present  is  his  wife. 

The  first  Ambassador  whom  Russia  sent  to  Paris  after 
the  signature  of  peace  with  Germany  was  Prince  Orloff,  one 
of  her  greatest  noblemen.  His  exalted  position  and  high  moral 
character  put  him  above  any  suspicion  of  playing  a  double 
game  between  France  and  Prussia,  and  he  had,  moreover,  the 
advantage  of  being  a  personal  friend  of  President  Thiers.  He 
remained  at  his  post  for  something  like  ten  years,  and  when 
he  was  removed  to  Berlin,  at  the  express  desire  of  Prince 
Bismarck,  his  departure  was  mourned  by  all  those  who  knew 
him. 

386 


A  Few  Foreign  Diplomats 

Of  his  successor,  Baron  Mohrenheim,  I  shall  say  no  more 
than  that  he  had  a  very  complex  personality.  He  was  not 
liked  in  France  nor  in  Russia ;  it  is  said  that  he  only  kept 
his  post  because  he  enjoyed  the  protection  of  the  Empress 
Marie  Feodorovna,  the  Consort  of  Alexander  III. 

It  was  M.  Nelidoff  who  replaced  him,  and  who  remained 
in  possession  of  the  Russian  Embassy  in  Paris  until  his  death. 
M.  Nelidoff  was  a  diplomat  of  the  old  school,  who  had  spent 
almost  his  whole  career  in  the  East,  and  who  had  served 
under  Count  Ignatieff  in  Constantinople,  accompanying  him 
to  San  Stefano,  where  his  signature  figures  on  the  famous 
treaty  which  was  signed  there,  and  which  Europe  did  not 
consent  to  accept.  He  was  not  a  man  who  would  shrink 
with  horror  when  seeing  something  dirty  under  his  feet,  but 
rather  one  who  would  try  not  to  step  into  it.  No  one  knew 
better  than  he  did  how  to  get  over  a  difficulty,  or  how  to 
avoid  a  mistake.  He  can  certainly  be  considered  as  an  able 
diplomat,  and  certainly  also  he  cut  a  better  figure  in  Paris 
than  his  successor,  M.  Izvolski,  whom  wicked  tongues  in  St. 
Petersburg  nicknamed  Izvostchik,  which  means  a  cabdriver. 

Prince  Orloff  had  had  for  private  secretary  during  his  stay 
in  Paris  Count  Muravieff,  whom  he  took  with  him  to  Berlin, 
and  who  was  ultimately  to  be  put  in  possession  of  the  E  ;sian 
Foreign  Office  after  the  unexpected  death  of  Prince  Labanoff. 
Count  Muravieff  was  one  of  the  most  charmingly  amiable 
men  that  Russian  diplomacy  ever  possessed.  His  tact  was 
something  surpassing,  and  his  cleverness,  which  had  no  shade 
of  pedantry  mixed  with  it,  made  him  delightful.  He  has  been 
accused  of  many  things,  including  that  of  not  being  either 
a  good  or  a  faithful  friend.  I  have  had  occasion  to  see 
that  this  was  a  most  unjust  and  untrue  reproach,  because  Count 
Muravieff,  far  from  deserting  those  who  had  been  his  com- 
panions, when  their  worldly  star  did  not  shine  any  longer  as 

387 


France  from  Behind  the  Veil 

brightly  as  it  had  done,  was,  on  the  contrary,  always  eager 
to  oblige  them  in  anything  that  he  could  possibly  do  for  them, 
and  kept  up  his  relations  with  them  sometimes  even  at  the 
cost  of  some  personal  sacrifices.  He  was  not  liked  by  those 
who  saw  in  him  a  possible  rival,  his  quick  career  inter- 
fering with  their  own,  but  the  few  who  knew  him  well  esteemed 
him  as  much  as  they  appreciated  his  intelligence  and  his 
pleasant  conversation. 

I  must,  before  ending  with  these  few  words  of  remembrance 
that  I  have  given  of  my  former  colleagues,  say  something 
about  the  Italian  Ambassador,  Count  Tornielli,  or  rather 
about  his  wife,  who  was  a  Russian  by  birth,  a  Countess  Rostop- 
schine,  the  granddaughter  of  that  Count  Rostopschine  who 
burned  Moscow  rather  than  give  it  up  to  Napoleon.  She 
was  an  amiable  woman,  whose  house  was  always  open  to 
her  compatriots;  one  who  had  kept  a  great  attachment  for 
the  land  of  her  birth,  and  whose  salon  was  a  favourite  resort 
for  those  who  cared  more  for  clever  conversation  than  for 
polo  or  for  tennis.  She  had  a  sister,  the  Countess  Lydie 
Rostopschine,  who  has  written  several  books  full  of  interest, 
among  them  one  called  "  Rastaqueropolis,"  which  is  the  best 
description  that  has  ever  been  published  of  Nice  society 
and  in  general  of  the  life  and  the  people  of  the  French 
Riviera. 


388 


L'ENVOI 

WHEN  I  think  of  all  those  bright,  happy  days  I  spent  in 
Paris  I  regret  often  that  I  cannot  live  them  over  again. 
I  had  hoped  to  be  allowed  to  end  my  days  on  the  banks  of 
the  Seine,  in  the  gay  city  which  has  always  proved  so  attractive 
to  Russians.  St.  Petersburg  did  not  interest  me  any  longer. 
Its  climate  is  far  too  severe  for  my  old  lungs  and  my  ever- 
lasting rheumatism,  and  all  the  persons  who  were  my  friends 
in  the  old  days  have  either  died  or  disappeared  from  the  social 
horizon.  Fate  ruled  it  otherwise,  and  my  seventy-five  years 
have  not  been  allowed  to  remain  in  Paris  where  they  believed 
they  had  found  a  home.  An  Imperial  order  removes  me  to 
another  place  where  very  probably  I  shall  miss  the  attractions 
of  Paris,  and  the  resources  which  it  offers  to  a  bookworm 
like  my  sell.  Before  going  away  I  have  read  over  again  the 
reminiscences  that  in  my  idle  moments  I  have  scribbled  for 
the  benefit  of  those  who  care  to  read  them  when  I  am  gone, 
and  I  have  found  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  doing  so.  It 
has  been  such  a  happy  time,  even  for  a  misanthrope  like 
myself.  Each  time  I  have  left  Paris  it  has  been  a  joy  to 
return,  and  to  look  once  more  on  the  familiar  haunts  where 
I  used  to  walk  in  company  with  friends  who,  alas!  have 
already  gone.  Would  that  I  could  follow  them  on  that 
journey  whence  no  one  returns,  before  leaving  Paris  for  ever ; 
because  at  my  age  one  cannot  hope  for  anything  that  the 
morrow  may  bring  along  with  it — this  wonderful  Paris, 
z*  389 


L'Envoi 

where  is  so  much  of  what  constituted  my  former  pleasures,  will 
remain  buried.  Russia  can  only  increase  my  melancholy, 
it  is  so  different  from  what  it  was  when  I  was  young,  and 
when  the  sadness  of  the  snow  which  covered  its  ground  found 
no  echo  in  my  young  heart. 

Count  Vassili's  wish  was  realised.    He  died  just  before 
his  intended  departure  from  the  Paris  he  had  loved  so  well. 


390 


INDEX 


ABZAC,  Marquis  d',  151  ;  influence  in 
Germany,  152 

Adam,  Edmond,  191 

,  Mme.  Juliette,  188,  189;  her 

antagonism  to  Bonapartism,  196; 
and  Boulangism,  248,  253;  and 
Gambetta,  192,  232 

Agoult,  Comtesse  d',  190 

Alexander  III.,  death  of,  285 

Ame"lie  of  Portugal,  marriage  of,  126 

Andre",  Mme.  Edouard,  177,  180 

Aosta,  Duchess  of,  46 

Arnim,  Count,  383 

Aumale,  Due  d',  banishment  annulled, 
139  ;  biography  of,  133 ;  cause  of 
banishment,  138  ;  offered  the  Pre- 
sidency, 145  ;  in  the  Army,  137  ; 
popularity  of,  124  ;  and  Trochu,  82 

,  Duchesse  d',  141 

B 

BARTET,  Mme.,  379 

Bazaine,  Marshal,  64  ;    trial  of,  129 

Beaulaincourt,  Comtesse  de,  23,  30 

Beauvoir,  Marquis  de,  and  Boulangism, 
247 

Bernhardt,  Madame  Sarah,  379 

Berry er,  M.,  48 

Biron,  Vicomte  de  Gontaut,  161 ;  and 
Bismarck,  162 

,  Comte  de  Gontaut,  349 

Bisaccia,  Due  et  Duchesse  de  la  Roche- 
foucauld, 169 

Bismarck  and  Gambetta,  238 ;  and 
Jules  Favre,  73 ;  and  Vicomte  de 
Gontaut  Biron,  162 


Bonaparte,  Prince  Pierre,  private  life 
of,  40 

,  Prince  Victor,  shoots  Victor  Noir, 

39 

,  Princess  Marie,  marriage  of,  41 

Bonnat,  Joseph  Leon,  142 

Bonnemains,  Madame  de,  and  Bou- 
langer,  247,  256 

Bontoux,  M.,  and  the  Union  Generate, 
227 

Boulanger,  General,  244 ;  elected  to 
Chamber,  247  ;  flight  of,  255  ;  re- 
tirement of,  246  ;  returns  to  Paris 
in  disguise,  247  ;  suicide  of,  256 

Plot,  the,  244 

Boulangism,  the  beginnings  of,  246 

Boulangists  and  the  Comte  de  Paris,  125 

Bourget,  Paul,    377 

Briand,  Aristide,  career  of,  366  ;  poli- 
tical future  of,  363 ;  and  the 
Socialists,  368 

Brisson,  Barnabe,  Nicholas  II.  visits, 
289 

Broglie,  Due  de,  147 ;  an  ardent 
Orleanist,  158  ;  biography  of,  156  ; 
and  Feuillet,  158 

,  Prince  Amedee  de,  159 

,  Princesse  de,  160 

Billow,  Prince  von,  385 


CAILLAVET,  Madame  de,  332 
Canrobert,    Marshal,    candidature    for 

Presidency,  145 
Carnot,  Sadi,  245  ;  as  President,  271  ; 

becomes   candidate   for   Presidency, 

229  ;   murder  of,  271 


391 


Index 


Castellane,  Comte  de,  affairs  of,  316 

Castellane,  Comtesse  Jean  de,  350 

,  Marquis  de,  349 

Castelnau,  General,  and  the  Prince 
Imperial,  60 

Castiglione,  Comtesse  de,  53 

Cavaignac,  M.,  and  the  Dreyfus  affair, 
328 

Chambord,  Comte  de,  biography  of  the, 
112 ;  death  of,  116 ;  funeral  of, 
122  ;  dispute  with  MacMahon,  218  ; 
home  life  of,  112 ;  and  Marshal 
MacMahon,  115-118 ;  and  the 
Monarchical  restoration,  115 ;  and 
the  Republic,  88  ;  and  Versailles, 
116 

Chantilly,  bequeathed  to  the  French 
Academy,  139 ;  glories  of,  124, 
134 

Chanzy,  General,  defeated  at  Orleans, 
81 

Chartres,  Due  de,  characteristics  of, 
128 ;  marriage  of,  130 ;  and  the 
Franco-Prussian  War,  128 

Claretie,  Jules,  217,  376 

Clemenceau,  Georges,  influence  of,  309  ; 
and  Baron  Mohrenheim,  280  ;  and 
Comtesse  d'Aunay,  310  ;  and  Ed- 
ward VII.,  361;  and  Fallieres,  358; 
and  Russia,  279  ;  and  the  Commune, 
92 ;  and  the  Dreyfus  affair,  312, 
321 

Clery,  Maltre,  140 

Clotilde  of  Savoy,  Princesse,  45  ;  and 
Empress  Eugenie,  14 

Commune,  the,  fight  with  Thiers' 
troops  at  Pere- la -Chaise,  95; 
opinions  on,  94 ;  outbreak  of  the, 
87  ;  stamping  out  the,  97 

Compiegne,  life  at,  9,  25 

Conneau,  Dr.,  contrives  Napoleon's 
escape  from  Ham,  21  ;  Napoleon's 
friendship  with,  20 

Constant,  M.,  and  General  Boulanger, 
255 

Conti,  M.,  23 


DARBOY,  Archbishop,  assassination  of, 
95 

Daudet,  Alphonse,  215 

,  Ernest,  217 

,  Leon,  216 

,  Lucien,  216 

,  Madame  Alphonse,  335 

Debate,  Journal  des,  299 

Decazes,  Due,  147 ;  as  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  60  ;  biography  of, 
156 

Delahaye,  Jules,  denounces  Panama 
affairs  in  Chamber,  263 

Deroulede,  Paul,  and  Boulangism,  248, 
252 

Dillon,  Count,  and  Boulangism,  247 

Donnersmarck,  Count  Henckel  von, 
238 

Dorian,  Madame  MSnard,  332 

Dreyfus  affair,  318 ;  a  family  inci- 
dent, 336 ;  the  religious  element, 
328  ;  the  verdict,  319  ;  and  Faure, 
295  ;  and  Zola,  323 

,  Captain,  in  the  dock,  318  ;  per- 
sonality of,  323 

Dumas,  Alex.,  211 

,  Colette,  213 

,  Jeannine,  213 

E 

EMPIRE,  last  days  of  the,  48 
Esterhazy,     Col.,     and     the     Dreyfus 

affair,  326 

Eugenie,  Empress,  3,  9,  26,  65  ;  as 
Regent,  63 ;  attitude  before  the 
Franco-Prussian  War,  59  ;  bravery 
as  a  nurse,  11  ;  flight  of,  71  ;  leaves 
St.  Cloud,  63  ;  unpopularity  during 
war,  59  ;  and  her  son,  12  ;  and  Mar- 
shal MacMahon,  64  ;  and  peace  nego- 
tiations, 78  ;  and  the  4th  of  Septem- 
ber, 37  ;  and  Thiers,  104.  (See  also 
under  Napoleon  III.) 


392 


Index 


FALLIERES,  Andr6,  365 

,  Armand,  at  St.  Petersburg,  362  ; 

elected  to  the  Presidency,  358  ;  and 
Clemenceau,  358  ;  and  the  Vatican, 
359 

,  Madame,  364 

Falloux,  Comte  de,  214 
Faure,  Felix,  at  the  Elys6e,  283  ;  death 
of,  294  ;  early  career,  276  ;  elected 
to  Presidency,  27,f.  ;  supposed  over- 
tures to  Germ;'  ay,  296 ;  visits 
Nicholas  II.,  294  ;  and  Nicholas  II., 
in  Paris,  284 ;  and  the  Russian 
Fleet,  277 

Favre,  Jules,  makes  a  false  move,  90  ; 
and  Bismarck,  73  ;   and  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War,  75 
Ferry,  Jules,  advocates  the  Republic, 

68  ;   and  Esterhazy,  326 
Feuillet,  Octave,  28 
Flaubert,     Gustave,     personality     of, 

375 

Fleury,  General,  23 
Flourens,    Pierre,    and    the    Panama 

scandal,  267 

Fontainebleau,  life  at,  25 
Fortoul,  M.  de,  150 
France,  Anatole,  personality  of,  374 
France,  estimation   of  patriotism  in, 

96 

Franco-Prussian  War,  capitulation  of 
Paris,  83 ;  defeat  of  army  of 
Chanzy,  81  ;  effect  on  Monarchy, 
63 ;  first  disasters  in,  63 ;  peace 
negotiations  at  Versailles,  84 ;  Prince 
Imperial  at,  62 ;  Prussian  troops 
enter  Paris,  84 ;  the  Emperor's 
review  outside  Paris,  86  ;  the  eve 
of  the,  in  Paris,  56  ;  troops'  return 
from  captivity,  94 

Franco  -  Russian  misunderstanding, 
313 

entente,  the,  278,  285 

French  court  life  under  Napoleon,  111 
Freycinet,  M.  de,  224,  229 


GALLIERA,  Duchesse  de,  177 

Galliffet,  Marquise  de,  29 

Gambetta,  Leon,  as  Prime  Minister, 
236  ;  biography  of,  231  ;  death  of, 
241 ;  forms  his  Cabinet,  236  ;  his 
chief  ambition,  233  ;  his  early  social 
errors,  194  ;  his  estimation  of  Mac- 
Mahon,  224 ;  his  projected  mar- 
riage, 239;  in  1871, '88  ;  the  mys- 
tery of  his  accident,  239  ;  and  Bis- 
marck, 238 ;  and  Comte  de  St. 
Vallier,  237  ;  and  European  poli- 
tics, 233  ;  and  Germany,  233  ;  and 
Madame  Juliette  Adam,  192  ;  and 
the  4th  of  September,  65 

Gaulois,  the,  303 

Gortschakoff,  Prince,  and  the  Russian 
canard,  164 

Gonne,  Miss  Maud,  and  Boulangism,  253 

Gramont,  Due  de,  46  ;  at  Vienna,  47 

,  Duchesse  de,  351 

Granier,  Jeanne,  Madame,  380 

Gr6vy,  Jules,  as  President,  225  ;  re- 
signs the  Presidency,  228  ;  and 
Daniel  Wilson,  227 

H 

HADING,  Jane,  Madame,  380 
Hanotaux,  Gabriel,  as  a  writer,  297 
Harcourt,  Vicomte  Emmanuel  d',  149 
Henry,     Colonel,     and     the     Dreyfus 

affair,  327 
Herz,  Cornelius,  and  the  Panama  Canal, 

259 

Hohenlohe,   Prince,  383  ;    as  Ambas- 
sador, 276 
Hohenzollern,  Prince  Leopold  of,  and 

the  Spanish  throne,  52 
Hugo,  Georges,  334 
Humbert,  Madame,  355 


IMPERIAL,    Prince,    and    the    Franco- 
Prussian  War,  60 


393 


Index 


JACQUEMARD,  Mile.  Nelly,  180,  182 
Jaures,  M.,  and  the  Socialists,  369 
Journal,  the,  299 


LACROIX,  Madame,  58,  188 

Laguerre,  George,  and  Boulangism, 
248,  251 

Lamartine,  M.  de,  48 

Lambert,  Madame  Juliette,  190.  (See 
also  Adam,  Juliette.) 

Lanlerne,  the,  304 

Lasteyrie,  Marquis  Jules  de,  194 

Lecomte,  assassination  of,  91 

Legitimists,  position  of,  under  Third 
Republic,  168 

Lemaitre,  Jules,  141 

L6on,  Princesse  de,  179 

Lesseps,  Ferdinand  de,  mental  break- 
down of,  264 ;  sentenced  to  im- 
prisonment, 265  ;  and  the  Panama 
Canal,  258.  (See  also  Panama  scan- 
dal.) 

,  Charles  de,  259  ;  his  affection 

for  his  father,  264.  (See  also  Panama 
scandal.) 

Loti,  Pierre,  personality  of,  376 

Loubet,  Emile,  achievements  during 
Presidency,  313 ;  elected  to  the 
Presidency,  308  ;  in  London,  314  ; 
in  Rome,  314  ;  Nicholas  II.  visits, 
289  ;  refuses  to  visit  the  Pope,  315  ; 
and  the  Catholic  rupture,  311  ;  and 
the  Dreyfus  affair,  312 

Luynes,  Duchesse  de,  169,  172 

Lyons,  Lord,  383 

M 

MACMAHON,  Marshal,  at  the  Elys6e, 
147 ;  coup  d'etat  of,  159 ;  death 
of,  155 ;  dispute  with  Comte  de 
Chambord,  218  ;  elements  of  failure 
as  President,  221  ;  fall  of,  218  ;  his 
letter  to  Jules  Simon,  149  ;  over- 
throw of,  154  ;  Presidency  of,  144  ; 


proceeds  to  join   Marshal  Bazaine, 

64  ;    retires  from  Presidency,  226  ; 

and  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  115, 

118 ;     and    d'Harcourt,    149  ;     and 

the  coup  d'etat  of  May  16th,  223  ;  and 

Thiers,  110 
Magenta,  Due  de,  148 

,  Duchesse  de,  148 

Maille,  Duchesse  de,  186 

Mathilde,    Princess,    14 ;     and   Taine, 

209 

Matin,  the,  298 
Maupassant,   Guy  de,  personality  of , 

376 

May,  the  16th  of,  218 
Mazas,  prison  invaded  by  mob,  83 
Merim6e,  M.,  27 
Messine,  Mile.    Juliette  la,  190.     (See 

also  Adam,  Juliette,  and  Lambert, 

Juliette.) 
Metternich,  Prince,  382  ;  and  Adolphe 

Thiers,  102 

Princess  Paul,  2,  17 

Meyer,  Arthur,  career  of,  301  ;    starts 

the  Panama  revelations,  262  ;    and 

Boulangism,  247  ;    and   Charles  de 

Lesseps,  260 
Millevoye,    Lucien,    and    Boulangism, 

248,  252 

Mirbeau,  Octave,  career  of,  372 
Mocquard,  M.,  21 
Mohrenheim,  Baron  de,  and  Clemen- 

ceau,  280  ;    and  Faure,  277 
Monaco,  Princesse  de,  175 
Monarchist  restoration,  chances  of,  in 

1871,  88 
Montagnini,    Mgr.,    and    the    Catholic 

crisis,  360 

Montalembert,  Charles  de,  49 
Montebello,  Comtesse  Jean  de,  346 
Mores,  Marquis  de,  and  Russia,  279 
Mouchy,    Due    de,    marries    Princess 

Anna  Murat,  167 
Mun,  Count  Albert  de,  and  Boulangism, 

248,  250 


394 


Index 


Munster,  Count,  as  Ambassador,  275, 
385  ;  and  the  Dreyfus  affair,  274 

Murat,  Princess  Anna,  and  Empress 
Eug&iie,  16 

Muravieff,  Count,  387 

N 
NAPOLEON  III.,  at  the  Franco-Prussian 

War,  58  ;  end  of  his  dynasty,  70  ;  in 

1868,  3  ;  influence  of,  67  ;  leaves  St. 

Cloud,  60  ;   personal  characteristics, 

6  ;  and  Italian  secret  societies,  6 

T-,  Prince,  and  Empress  Eugenie,  14 

,  Prince  Louis,  45 

— ,  Prince  "  Plon  Plon,"  43 
National   Assembly,   first   meeting    of 

the,  225  ;    ratifies  peace,  87 
Guard,  the  disarmament  trouble 

begins,  90 

Nelidoff,  M.  de,  387 
Nerville,  Madame  Aubernon  de,  188 
Nicholas  II.  at  Chalons,  290 ;    at  the 

Russian  Embassy,  290  ;   visits  Bris- 

son,  289;  visits  Loubet,  289  ;  visits 

Paris,  284,  287 
Nigra,   Count,  32,  382;    a  significant 

prophecy,  33 

Noailles,  Comtesse  Mathieu  de,  337 
Noir,  Victor,  shot  by  Prince  Pierre,  39 

O 

OLLIVIER,  Emile,  24,  38  ;  changes  in 
Cabinet  of,  46 ;  Ministry  of,  dis- 
trusted, 48 ;  urges  Napoleon's  re- 
turn to  Paris,  64 

Orleanism,  hopes  of,  220 

Orleans,  Due  d',  127 
-  family,  131 

Orleanist  cause,  the,  123 

Orleanists  and  the  confiscated  millions, 
123  ;  and  the  Republic,  88 

Orloff,  Prince,  386 

P 

PANAMA  Scandal,  money  becomes 
scarce,  258  ;  the  Canal  scheme,  257  ; 
the  lottery  is  suggested,  258  ;  the 


public  trial,  265 ;  and  the  Re- 
public, 269 

Paris,  Bismarck  and  the  Peace  of, 
73  ;  capitulation  of,  83  ;  during  the 
siege,  73 ;  experiences  of,  during 
revolution,  78 ;  invasion  of  Mazas 
by  the  mob,  83 ;  news  of  Sedan 
reaches,  66 ;  on  the  eve  of  the 
Franco-Prussian  War,  56  ;  popula- 
tion fraternises  with  Prussians,  85  ; 
prepares  for  the  siege,  71  ;  Prussian 
troops  enter,  84 ;  September  4th 
in,  65 ;  settles  down  after  Com- 
mune, 97  ;  society  after  the  fall  of 
the  Empire,  166  ;  society  in  1868, 
1  ;  society  of  to-day,  343  ;  society 
under  Loubet,  315  ;  the  Commune, 
87  ;  Thiers  returns  after  the  Com- 
mune, 97  ;  visit  of  Nicholas  II.,  284, 
287  ;  food  during  siege,  80 

,  Comte  de,  personality  of,  125  ; 

and  the  Boulangists,  125 

Peace  negotiations  of  Franco-Prussian 
War,  84 

Pellieux,  General  de,  and  the  Dreyfus 
affair,  327 

Pdrier,  Casimir,  early  career  of,  272  ; 
elected  President,  273  ;  strength  of 
character,  273 ;  why  he  resigned 
Presidency,  274 

Pere-la-Chaise,  the  fight  at,  95 

Petit  Parisien,  the,  300 

Plebiscite,  the,  first  suggested,  41 

"  Plon  Plon,"  Prince,  43 

Pobedonosteff,  M.,  and  Boulangism,  254 

Poilly,  Baronne  de,  30 

Pourtales,  Comtesse  Melanie  de,  17, 19, 
180 

Press,  the  French,  297 

Presse,  the,  304 

Prevost,  Marcel,  personality  of,  378 

Psichari,  Madame,  335 

R 

RADZIWILL  family,  the,  352 
Reinach,     Baron    Jacques,    and    the 
,   Panama  Scandal,  261 


395 


Index 


Rejane,  Madame,  380 

Renan,  Ernest,  205 

,  Henriette,  206 

Republic,  the  Third,  birth  of  the,  69 ; 
disbelief  in  its  stability,  88  ;  Jules 
Ferry  incites  revolt,  68  ;  the  mis- 
take of  the,  74 

Revolution,  excesses  during  the,  77  ; 
of  1870,  start  of  the,  69 

Rochefort-Lucay,  Henri,  Marquis  de, 
as  a  journalist,  305  ;  and  Bou- 
langism,  248 

Rochefoucauld,  Comte  de  la,  174 

,  Comtesse  Aimery  de  la,  174 

,  La,  family  of,  173 

Rochette,  career  of,  355  ;  scandal,  355 

Rodin  and  Mirbeau,  373 

Rohan,  Duchesse  de,  179 

Rostopschine,  Countess  Lydie,  388 

Rothschild,  Baron  Henri  de,  339 

Rouher,  M.,  38  ;  character  sketch  of, 
42  ;  and  the  Plebiscite,  42 

Rouvier,  Maurice,  as  candidate  for  the 
Presidency,  308  ;  characteristics  of, 
340  ;  and  the  Panama  Scandal,  267 

S 
ST.  VALUER,  Comte  de,  and  Gambetta, 

237 
Sagan,  Prince  and  Princesse  de,  183 

,  Princesse  de,  128 

Sedan,  fall  of,  news  received  in  Paris,  66 

September  4th  in  Paris,  65 

Siege  of  Paris,  73  ;  food  during,  80 

Simon,  Jules,  as  Prime  Minister,  221 

Socialism  in  France,  368 

Sorel,  Cecile,  379,  380 

Spain,   Prince   Leopold   of   Hohenzol- 

lern  and  the  throne  of,  52 

T 

TAINE,  Hippolyte,  209 
Talleyrand,  Due  de,  186 
Temps,  the,  298 
Thiebaud,  George,  and  Boulangism,  247 


Thiers,  Adolphe,  as  an  historical  writer, 
100  ;  characteristics  of,  99  ;  death 
of,  110  ;  elected  head  of  National 
Assembly,  89  ;  explains  his  severity 
during  the  Commune,  108  ;  flight  of, 
to  Versailles,  9  ;  imprisonment  of, 

103  ;      M.     and    Madame,    at    the 
Elysee,   167  ;    Ministry  overturned, 
144 ;      negotiates    for    peace,     84  ; 
opposes  the  Plebiscite,  41  ;    returns 
to   Paris   after  Commune,  97  ;    his 
troops  defeat  Communards  at  Pere- 
la-Chaise,  95  ;  and  Empress  Eugenie, 

104  ;   and  Marshal  MacMahon,  110  ; 
and  Prince  Metternich,  102  ;  and  the 
Bonapartists,   109  ;    and   the   Com- 
mune, 106  ;    and  the  Empire,  104  ; 
and  the  situation  in  1871,  89 

Thomas,  Clement,  assassination  of,  91 
Tornielli,  Comtesse,  388 
Tradern,  Comtesse  de,  350 
Trochu,  General,  65  ;    conduct  during 

the   siege   of   Paris,    81  ;     and    Due 

d'Aumale,  82 

Tsartoryski,  Prince  Ladislas,  351 
Tuileries,  the,  forced  by  the  mob,  1870, 

70  ;  life  at,  24 

U 

UNION-GE>JERALE   collapse,   226 
Uzes,   Duchesse   d',  and   Boulangism, 
248,  269,  251 


VALOVSKA,  Countess,  17 
Viollet-le-Duc,  M.,  29 
Vogue,  Vicomte  de,  377 

W 


Wimpffen,  General,  76 

Z 
ZOLA,  Emile,  214,  336  ;    burial  in  the 

Pantheon,     324  ;  and    the     Dreyfus 

affair,  323 
,  Madame,  336 


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